Ring the Wedding Bells - or - Prime the Shotgun
by CherryMayree
Summary: COMPLETE!(Huzzah) If Jess Harper knows anything, it's that women are trouble. And trouble is just what he finds when he travels to Cheyenne to try and settle things with an ex-girlfriend, only to find himself involved with a young single mother... whose father is on the hunt for a son-in-law! Framed for something he didn't do, Jess must make a choice - wedding bells or the shotgun!
1. Is She the One?

_Ring the Wedding Bells_

 _Or_

 _Prime the Shotgun_

 **Hello, everyone! Here is my latest story. It has absolutely nothing to do with my other stories. The story is completed, but I'm working on going over it one last time for editing. Hopefully a couple chapters will come up a day! This story was supposed to be a little bit shorter, but as usual, I got carried away down the plot bunny trail. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

Chapter 1: Is She the One?

Jess Harper grimaced as he combed out his unruly wavy hair. "Dadgum it, stay back there," he muttered at a particularly stubborn lock that kept falling over his forehead.

"Let it lay down there," Andy, the boss' little brother, laughed. "It looks fine to me. 'Sides, your hat'll smash it down anyhow."

Jess turned his head right and left, then tossed the comb down onto the crate that served as an outdoor washstand. "Shucks, guess you're right, Andy." He placed said hat upon his head carefully, and pushed the errant hair up under the inner band.

A sorrel horse slid to a stop just a few feet from the two by the house, stirring up dust and a curse from Jess. "Lay off, Slim! I just got cleaned up."

Slim Sherman threw one leg over his saddle horn and leaned his elbow on it, his round face lighting up in a mischievous grin. "That's the third time this week, Jess. I thought you only took baths on Saturdays!"

Jess glared up at his the man who was both his boss and best friend. "Wouldn't hurt you any to follow my lead, pard." He dramatically sniffed the air before making a distasteful face.

Slim pretended offence and leapt down from Alamo's back, but Jess was already jogging toward his own horse, a stocky bay named Traveler. "I'll be home late, Slim! See ya, Andy!"

The rancher and his brother waved as the Texan galloped out of the yard. Slim shook his head with a smirk before tossing out Jess' dirty water and refilling the pan. He started unbuttoning his shirt when he heard Andy huff dramatically. Cocking a sandy brow, he inquired, "What is it, Andy?"

Andy jumped, his mind having been elsewhere. "Oh, nothing, Slim."

The elder Sherman tugged out his shirt tail. "Right." He shucked out of his sweaty shirt and threw it into a wooden box with other dirty clothes. He started mentally counting, guessing he'd get to no more than ten seconds before Andy blurted out whatever was bothering him.

"Well, actually…"

 _There it is,_ Slim smirked. "Go ahead, Andy. I'm listening." He started lathering up his arms and face.

"Well, it's Jess."

"What about him?"

"He's been goin' off a lot lately, ain't he?"

"Hasn't he, Andy," Slim automatically corrected.

"So you've noticed it too?"

Slim gave a little laugh at Andy's misunderstanding. "Sure, Andy. He's been taking a little time off. I've been keeping up with things, and it's his turn to cut loose a little after I was gone that week to that stage line meeting over in Denver."

Andy absently tugged at a fraying thread on a towel. "He ain't…he ain't thinkin' on leavin' here, is he? I mean, sometimes he gets so bored and…"

Slim snatched the towel from Andy and dried off. "I don't think so, Andy. Jess is happy. I can tell. And if things keep going the way I've heard they're going, I think he might be staying here for good."

"What do you mean?"

"Andy, what do you think he's been doing getting all gussied up, even on weeknights?"

Andy thought a moment. "Playing poker?"

Slim grinned. "Andy, Jess is in the best mood he's been in since he came here. Only love could make a perpetual grump like him whistle like a meadowlark. He's going _courting_."

" _Courting_!" Andy yelled, disgust on his youthful face. "Jess?! He wouldn't!"

"Andy, he is. I happen to know the young lady, and Jess is one lucky fella if he can manage to hold onto her."

"Who is she?"

"Malinda Sanders."

"MALINDA!" Andy yelled again, only louder. "Slim, he can't court her, he just can't!"

"Why not?"

Andy sputtered a moment. "Well, he just can't, alright?"

Slim ruffled Andy's straight dark hair. "Don't take it too hard, Andy. Everyone gets bit by the love bug at least once in their life. Even you'll get it someday."

Andy whacked Slim's arm away. "Over my dead body I will!"

Slim watched Andy storm away, heading toward the comfort of his pen of animals. Jonesy, mentor and father-figure to the ranch's occupants, immerged from the kitchen. "What's the yellin' been about?"

"Oh, Andy's just mad that Jess is spending more time with a feminine friend than around here."

"Jess been seeing a lady, has he?"

Slim filled Jonesy in.

"Hmm," the old man murmured. "Well, maybe we'll finally get rid of that boy then. Marry him off."

"And that's exactly what's got Andy so mad. He's afraid Jess'll get married and move away."

"What did Andy expect? Jess is his own man. I doubt this place will ever get its brand on him, though not from lack of trying from both of you." Jonesy rocked on his heels, hands on his back. "Though, it is kind of a surprise. Jess doesn't seem like the marrying type. He's still pretty wild."

Slim couldn't help but agree. "I know. It really is sort of a shock. And as much as I hate to say it, Malinda isn't the girl I imagine the one to stick with Jess. She's a little…well…"

"Uppity?" Jonesy finished for Slim.

"I don't know if I'd put it that way."

"Slim, that girl has blue blood, and I'm not referring to being a Unionist."

The young rancher nodded. "You're right, which is what makes this whole thing a little odd. Sure, I'm happy for Jess, but it is strange to think of those two as a couple. I've known Malinda almost my whole life, and she never showed any interest in me. I at least have some property behind my name. She seems like the type to want to find a man who could buy every little thing she could want."

Jonesy nodded. "Remember that boy she sparked to that her pa ran off? Chased him clean out of town, mostly because he had the audacity to be a traveling gambler."

Slim recalled the incident. A similarity to the situation struck him. "That young fella bore an interesting resemblance to Jess: head-strong, dashing, and maybe even dangerous."

"And without a dime in his pocket." Jonesy shook his head. "Jess should be careful. Sanders didn't become successful letting anyone walk all over him. He's got a dark heart."

Slim felt a little feeling of uneasiness. "Maybe I should talk this all over with Jess."

"I wouldn't. Jess is like a bulldog with his teeth in something when someone tells him not to do something. He won't let go."

"You're right, Jonesy. I would just hate to see Jess get into trouble."

"I guess we can just hope that boy won't go too far before it's too late to get back."

As the two sat on the porch swing, Jess looked into Malinda's beautiful dark eyes and allowed himself to be swallowed up in their depths. Still, something plagued him. "Why me, Malinda? Why love me? I'm no good, with not a red cent to my name."

She quirked her rosy lips. "Oh, Jess. I want you for you…"

They embraced, and Jess buried his face in the soft skin of her neck. He felt cool silk against his jaw. Her dress was extravagant, and without question very expensive. "But Malinda, I couldn't buy you the fine things, not on a cowboy's salary."

"Come work for Daddy. He could use a smart, resourceful man like you."

"Work for your father? Malinda, I couldn't do that."

She pulled away, a frown on her face. "Why not, Jess?"

"Malinda," he laughed, "can you picture me workin' in a bank every day?"

Her face was beginning to turn red. "Why not? It's a good job, and you could work your way up…"

He took her forearms in his hands. "Malinda, I'd go crazy! Not to mention, I ain't hardly had no schoolin'. Slim jokes all the time that I can hardly write my own name."

"What? You never told me that. Why didn't you go to school?"

"My folks were killed, but even before then we were dirt poor and I had to work on the farm instead of goin' to school."

She pressed her lips together for a moment before saying. "I wish you'd have talked about this with me before."

"Why does it matter? I've been workin' real hard, and I'll keep workin' hard to take care of you."

"But not as a bank clerk."

" _Never_ as a bank clerk."

She shifted a bit. "Uh, Jess, what exactly did you do before you came here to Laramie?"

"I think I'd like to ask you same question." The young couple jumped a little at the unexpected voice.

Jess stood rapidly. "Mr. Sanders, no need to get riled. I've been a gentleman."

Mr. Sanders straightened his finely cut suit jacket. "I seriously doubt you even know what that word means."

"Now hold on just a minute…"

Mr. Sanders snapped out some sheets of paper. "You want to know why I think that? Take a look at this, if you can actually read it."

"I can read it," Jess snarled and snatched them up. As he glanced over the handwriting, his stomach started to slowly churn. The letter was a list of locations with notations about violent acts that had occurred there that Jess was reportedly involved in. It was as though somebody had written a history of his life and laid it all out in a timeline. He couldn't bear to look up into Mr. Sander's face. "Where did you get this?" he whispered.

"I have a friend in the Pinkerton's. He owed me a favor."

"Jess, what is it?" Malinda glided over and tried to look at the letter. When Jess tried to keep it from her, one sheet fell to the ground. The young lady got to it before he could and instantly began to read it out loud.

 _"'Jess Harper is a known gunfighter and killer. Do not trust him with anything, especially not your daughter.'"_ When Malinda's face came up, there were tears in her eyes. "Jess, you _lied_ to me! You're a…you're…"

"Malinda, it ain't like that! I've changed!" Jess pleaded.

"Changed? You can't just change, just like that." She snapped her fingers, her voice beginning to quiver.

"Malinda, please…"

"Get away from me, you…you…" She grabbed up her skirts and ran away.

"Malinda! Come back, let me explain!" Jess made to go after her, but a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Stop right there, Harper."

Jess shrugged out of the grip on his body and turned partially around, only to meet the back of the banker's hand against is cheekbone with powerful force. His head snapped back as he staggered away from the man. "What the blazes, Sanders?" he shouted.

"You leave her alone. I'll not allow riff-raff sniffing around my daughter."

Jess saw red as his skin around his eye started to swell. "Just try and stop me, mister, and you'll get a mouthful of my fist."

It was suddenly apparent that Mr. Sanders was not alone. Three men joined him, and these were not soft-looking bankers. One was Malinda's brother, and the others were town boys. Jess smirked. "What's this, Sanders? Gotta have a herd of muscle to do your dirty work for you?"

"I mean it, Harper. I am not afraid to do what is necessary to keep you away from my daughter."

"By beating me to a pulp, Sanders? Or by killin' me? You think you're man enough for that?"

Sanders pointed to the letter where it had fallen on the ground. "According to this, none of us would stand a chance against a hired gun like you."

Jess' voice rose rapidly. "Mister, I've done some bad things in my life, sure. But hired out? That I ain't never done!"

"You expect me to believe the word of a murderer?"

At this, Jess lost his slippery hold on his temper. He shoved aside the little nagging thought that Malinda would surely leave him if he were to beat up her father and surged toward Sanders. He planted one foot and swung up with a powerful uppercut right into Sander's jaw, felling him instantly. The others joined the fight, and Jess felt a thrill go through him as he found himself in his element. Fists pounded and blood flowed.


	2. An Unwelcome Compromise

Chapter 2: An Unwelcome Compromise

When Slim met Mose the next morning in the ranch yard to change out the stage horses, the old man was not his usual jovial self.

"A word with you, Slim?"

Slim already knew what his news was, or at least had an idea. Jess had probably gotten himself liquored up like he was apt to do time to time and got himself an overnight stay in the sheriff's fine establishment. Still, something seemed a little more serious about the way Mose had asked to speak to Slim privately. "Help me with these teams, Mose. We can talk and switch 'em out at the same time."

Mose waited until Jonesy had ushered the passengers inside for a cup of coffee. Slim felt worry build in his chest, and he tried to tamp it down. _Jess is fine, just drunk is all. Jess is…_

"Jess is being held for trial, Slim."

" _What_? What for?"

Mose looked at his boots for a moment. "He…he assaulted John Sanders last night. Witnesses saw him strike the man down. They say that Jess started the fight."

"Fight?"

"Yeah, young Sanders and some of his friends jumped in and had to haul Jess off of the banker before he could do any real damage."

Slim rubbed his face. "Oh, Jess… What was he thinking?"

Mose shrugged. "Sanders is pretty well stove up. Apparently in the fracas Jess almost broke the poor devil's jaw."

" _Jess_ ," Slim groaned. "Well, I guess I'd better head into town then, see what the whole story is. Thanks for telling me, Mose."

The little sun-shriveled man allowed a small smile. "Sure thing, Slim. Didn't want y'all to hear it from somebody else. News like this is best delivered by friends."

"Yep," Slim answered, his mind already turning over what he needed to do…tell Andy and Jonesy. It wouldn't be easy.

Slim's prediction was true. Andy declared Jess' innocence repeatedly, while Jonesy just shook his head with a resigned set to his face. Slim left home with a heavy heart. What was he going to do if Jess really was guilty? He'd have to pay for his crime. The shame would kill Jess, no matter what the punishment was. Slim knew if this didn't become worse than just a fine or a week in jail, Jess would leave.

Slim tied up in front of the sheriff's office. A weary Sheriff Jeremiah Mitchell met him at the door. "What is it?" Slim asked quietly.

Mitchell shut the door behind him and sat down a chair on the porch. He put a hand to his face. "My hands are tied in this, Slim. The Sanders are calling for retribution, and they are on the right side of the law. Jess really messed up this time." Mitchell had been sheriff for quite a while, and his years were showing now due to the stress.

Slim leaned against a post, feeling like a heavy weight had just dropped onto his broad shoulders. "What happened, exactly?"

"Ms. Sanders came in right after it all happened. She says that Jess and she were talking together on the porch when Mr. Sanders came up with a letter from the Pinkertons. It spelled out Jess' somewhat shady history. Apparently Mr. Sanders didn't like Jess from the get-go but knew he had to give his spoiled daughter a reason to give him up other than just her beloved daddy saying 'no'. She said she ran away after confronting Jess about it all, but came back when she heard the fight. Jess was a wildcat, as usual, but those town boys don't do much more than fight with the cowboys that come in from the hills to drink. They got Jess pinned up against a wall and were beating up on him. That's when she came and got me. I broke it up and put the lot in jail, with the exception of Mr. Sanders. He's over at Doc's still. The doctor thinks his jaw might be broken."

"Did anybody actually see Jess start the fight? Throw the first punch?"

"That's where it gets sticky. The Sanders live on the edge of town, so they don't have many neighbors. The only people who saw the fight start was the boys in the fight. They'd be biased witnesses…but I don't think that will be taken into account on this one."

"What do you mean? If nobody saw Jess start the fight except those in the fight, isn't it all hearsay? His word against theirs?"

Mitchell nodded, but sadly disagreed. "It won't work around here. Guess who just became the newest circuit judge."

Slim stood up sharply. "Calvin Sanders! John's brother?"

"I've known those boys for a long time, Slim. They stand up for each other, no matter what."

Slim swore a colorful oath, an uncharacteristic action for him. "Jess, you _idiot_! Sanders'll have him put away if he can!"

The sheriff stood slowly. "Nothing can be done for it. I have my duty to perform. I'm sorry, Slim."

Slim sighed. "I know, and I can't put any of the blame on you. If anything, I should have tried to keep Jess from coming to see Malinda. But if anyone's to blame, it's that ornery Texan himself. He should have known better."

Mitchell agreed, then turned and opened the jail door. "Why don't you go in and talk to him? He…he doesn't know how serious this all is. He's only been awake for about half an hour."

Slim squared his shoulders. "Thanks a lot, Jerry," he said sarcastically, but the sheriff only shrugged.

Jess was sitting on a bunk in a cell, his back against a wall. The rest of the jail was empty. The town boys must have been bailed out earlier.

Slim approached Jess' cell and frowned at what he saw. Jess was a complete mess, his face looking like one solid bruise. One eye was completely swollen shut and a large trail of dried blood covered his chin, probably from both his nose and mouth. His shirt was stained, torn, and it looked as though he had ripped pieces from it to bandage his knuckles. He looked up at his friend's approach and smiled carefully. "Hiya, pard. Come to bail me out, huh?"

Slim felt anger rise abruptly at Jess' cavalier attitude toward the situation. "Do you know what you've done? Really?"

Jess shifted with a grimace. "Sure, sure, got into a little ruckus. But I'll get myself outta it like always."

"Jess, you beat up the brother of the _district judge_."

The Texan shot to his feet and had to catch himself on the bars. He gasped a moment before being able to speak. "His brother is the judge? Oh, blast it all…"

"If Sanders' jaw really is broken you're going to be in all sorts of hot water."

Jess gingerly pressed his fingers to his swollen eye. "See this? Sanders clocked me one when he started the fight. A man has a right to defend himself."

"What? He started it? Did anyone else see this?"

"How should I know? I mean, those cowardly curs that pinned me to the wall and whupped the tar outta me saw it happen, but they won't say nothin'."

"What about Malinda? Was she there?"

Jess thought a moment. "Now that I think on it, she didn't run too far. Actually, I think she just ran into the house. She might've seen it all."

"She went for the sheriff. That's the only reason you're not dead, far as I can tell."

Jess groaned. "With this head, I might be wishin' I was dead."

"You think you can get Malinda to testify that her father started the fight?"

"Testify? You think this'll go to trial?"

"The sheriff thinks it might."

Jess eased back down on his cot. "I reckon Malinda's a tad sore at me right now, pard. Doubt she'll say a kind word toward me. Her pa told her everything 'bout me. _Everything_." He looked at the floor dismally. "I don't deserve quality, Slim. I shoulda known it all along. I'm trash, and hangin' up my gun won't change none of that."

A rustle sounded in the doorway, interrupting Slim's refutation of Jess' self-condemning statement. He turned to see Malinda Sanders hovering just inside, her face pale. "Jess?" she whispered, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Slim excused himself quickly and closed the door behind the young lady. Jess watched her as she carefully approached the cell. "You shouldn't be here, Malinda."

She lowered herself to a chair, her dark blue skirts settling around her perfectly. "I had to come, Jess. You're hurt and jailed, and I am to blame for all of it."

"No you ain't, Malinda, your father had the right…"

Her eyes flared with the fire Jess had grown to admire. "He had no right to beat you! It is my own business who I see, and he had no right to interfere."

"He has the right to protect his daughter. You needed protectin' from me. I ain't no good, Malinda. I shoulda told you all of those things straight-off. Then we wouldn't be in this mess."

She ducked her head and dabbed her eyes with a lacy hanky. "Oh, Jess, I can't blame you for not telling me, but like it or not, we can't escape the past. I know that now, despite my earlier defense of your honor." Her face came up, and her eyes were wet. "The swelling's gone down enough for the doctor to complete his examination. Father's jaw is not broken. In fact, I spoke with him just before coming here. We've come to an agreement."

Jess leaned forward, dread building in his stomach. "Malinda, what have you done?"

She had to clear her throat before delivering her news. "In exchange for his dropping of his charges against you…"

"Malinda, no…"

"…I agreed to go live with my aunt and uncle in Cheyenne."

Jess grabbed a tin cup and threw it as hard as he could across the cell. It bounced with a clang and ricocheted to come back toward the cowboy. He swore as he had to jerk to one side to avoid being struck.

The sheriff jerked the door open, Slim close behind. "Jess, what in Tarnation are you doing?"

Malinda got to her feet. "It's alright, Sheriff Mitchell. I was just leaving." She turned fully toward Jess and held out one gloved hand through the bars. "Good bye, Jess. I hope you'll forgive me, truly I do." Her hand hung untouched for a few beats, and sadly she retracted it. Her voice broke as she said, "Jess, this is not easy for me. At least afford me the decency to look me in the eye as I say my farewell."

Jess' face came up, his mouth working tightly. "Decent? You call tearin' out a man's heart and stomping it with your pretty little high-heeled shoes decent? And then expect that same man to shake your hand? Lady, you'd better get outta here. If it weren't for these bars, I'd show you the kind of man you deserve!"

Slim was astounded by Jess' dastardly behavior. "Jess, what's got into you? You'd better apologize!"

Jess looked as equally shocked at his own coarse words. "Malinda, I'm so sorry! I don't know what's got into me."

Malinda's face twisted in grief and her pitch grew higher and higher. "Maybe my father was right about us, about you. I don't think we would've worked, Jess. Perhaps all of this happened for the best, saved us from future heartache down the road."

"Malinda, no, I would never hurt you." His face flushed as he remembered what had just occurred. "Again," he added lamely.

"I believe you, Jess, but I just can't afford to find out, can I?" A small sob shook her body. "Goodbye, Jess. Take care of yourself."

Jess gripped the bars. "Malinda, MALINDA!" he yelled at her retreating back. She ran out the door to return home.

"DADGUM IT, JERRY! Let me outta here!" Jess jerked on the door, rattling it, but it remained closed.

Slim pulled the sheriff aside and spoke in low tones. "Best keep him in here until Malinda leaves town. He's apt to do something he'll regret."

The graying man nodded. "You've got it, Slim. Was just thinking on doing that. I think she's pulling out day after tomorrow."

Slim glanced over at his furious friend, who was glaring at the two hotly. "What're you two gossipin' 'bout over there? Let me outta this cell! You ain't got no reason to hold me! Let me out!"

"Can't do that, Jess," Sheriff Mitchell said calmly.

"Why the devil not? You just heard that I'm innocent!"

"Well…" The sheriff thought a moment. "You broke my cup. That's destruction of government property."

Jess stared incredulously at the lawman. His entire thin frame started to shake as he struggled to contain his anger. "That's hardly enough to hold me until the next stage comes through, is it?" he snarkily asked. "I'll have to add to that charge, won't I?"

With that, he turned around, grabbed up the stool, and swung it as hard as he could against the brick wall. The old wood splintered as the stool broke into pieces. Jess took the sharp edge of one the legs and proceeded to stab at the thin mattress.

"Jess, stop it," Slim said, charging toward the man in the cell. "You're acting like a child."

Jess whirled on his friend, the sharp stake raised like a knife. His one open eye was rid-rimmed and full of pain, but the sight of his boss seemed to draw him back to his senses. The wood fell from his limp grasp and landed with a clatter. He swayed alarmingly for a moment, and Slim wished the door was not locked so he could rush to his friend's side. However, Jess did not fall forward, but rather allowed himself to drop back onto the cot. He lay down with his legs hanging over the end and threw an arm over his eyes.

"Jess…," Slim started to say.

"Sorry to be such a dadgum brat, Slim." Jess' hoarse voice was even huskier than usual. "Take Trav home and come get me after…after… _she_ pulls out."

"Alright, pard, alright. I'll send you some fresh clothes soon as I can."

"Hm," Jess grunted, then rolled over onto his side to face the wall.

Slim looked at the sheriff, who once again merely shrugged. Slim sadly shook his head and left.

A couple days later, Slim pulled up in front of the sheriff's office. He flipped the reins of his horse over the hitching rail, then did the same for Jess'. A rattle sounded down the street, and he looked to see the stage rolling into town. There stood Malinda with her father, bags and trunks around their feet. He made his way over to them.

Mr. Sander's face had a huge bruise on it, but it looked as though the vivid colors were already beginning to fade. "Hello, Slim," he greeted stiffly.

"Hello, Mr. Sanders, Ms. Sanders," Slim returned, and then forged ahead. "I know this isn't my place, but I'd like to apologize for what happened a few days ago. Jess is a good man, despite what you found out about him. He's been going straight since he started working for me. He is not a criminal, just a man who had to make his way in life any way he could."

"By killing others?"

"Only if he had to. A man has a right to defend himself, after all."

"A man shouldn't put himself in the situation where he would have to defend himself," Mr. Sanders said gruffly. Malinda nudged her father with a look on her face that told of many hours of sadness. The older man wilted a bit. "Slim, we've known each other for a long time. Most people know me as a rough man, but I haven't always been this way. You have to understand something. My brother, Calvin, and I have always been very close. He too has a daughter, who's just about Malinda's age. Well, I should say, he _had_ a daughter…"

At this admission, Malinda sniffled and covered her mouth with a handkerchief. She walked off a few steps.

Sanders watched her worriedly. "Samantha and Malinda were like sisters. Sammy's death still haunts my daughter."

"What happened to her?"

"She was killed. Oh, it was an accident, sure, but killed just the same." Sanders squared his steely gaze on Slim. "Her husband did it."

"Well, if was an accident…"

"Her husband was a gunfighter…and he was a lot like your hired boy, Harper."

Slim let this sink in. Now it all made sense.

"He was going straight, so everyone believed. But then one day, a man rode into town looking to settle a past argument. Sammy was caught in the crossfire."

"What happened to her husband?"

Sanders shook his head. "It was one of his bullets that killed her. After he shot the other man…he turned the gun on himself."

Both men were silent for some time, watching the driver load the stage. "I have been thinking these past few days. I know you believe that Harper is going straight, and you're probably right. I just can't take that chance with my only daughter, not with what happened to Sammy."

"I understand," Slim said heavily. "But try convincing Jess…"

"Listen very carefully to me, Slim," Sanders said, very seriously. "I know you don't care much for me, but take my advice. Keep Jess away from Malinda, or he'll get in serious trouble. You see, she's going to go live with Sammy's parents. Calvin is very bitter after what happened. If he sees Harper trying to get to Malinda, there's no telling what he'd do…and he's got the power to do it."

Slim felt a sense of dread build in his stomach. "Jess is pretty sore right now. I doubt he'll listen to me, but I'll try."

"Everybody in, we're leavin'!" the driver yelled.

Slim excused himself as father and daughter said their farewells. He walked slowly back to the jail, mulling over what Sanders had just told him. The man was harsh, but for a good reason he could see now. But could Jess see it? Slim doubted it. Jess was more bull-headed than anyone Slim had ever encountered.

Jess had been stewing the entire time he was forced to spend in lock-up. He tried to forget about Malinda, but couldn't. The gall of that Sanders…who did he think he was anyway? Jess' thoughts spun in angry circles for hours. However, as time passed, he began to cool. Did he really have feelings for Malinda, or was it just the thrill of attempting to pick the forbidden fruit? Jess began to doubt the genuineness of the entire romance. Rumors had circulated that Malinda was a spoiled girl who loved the excitement of danger. No matter what the situation, Jess couldn't let some hoity-toity banker tell him what he could and couldn't do. And that went for the man's daughter, too. She should be allowed to make up her own mind.

The door swung open, giving Jess a view of the street. The stage drove past just before Slim came inside the small building. Jess stared blankly at the red coach for the small moment it was in sight before shifting his gaze up to the tan face of his friend. Slim looked conflicted and uneasy, but Jess couldn't blame him for that, not after his embarrassing outburst a few days ago.

The two friends looked at each other silently for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. Eventually the sheriff walked through the open door. "Well, Jess, looks like it's time for you to get out of here."

Jess stood slowly and waited as the sheriff unlocked the cell door. The older man handed Jess his gear. "Here you go, son. Try to keep out of trouble. You'll drive me into an early retirement," he said gruffly, but then added with a sympathetic tone, "You'll find another gal in no time."

Jess blanched a little, though it was not noticed by the others. Find another gal? Did he even want any gal at all?

Slim stood to the side of the doorway, waiting patiently. Jess mustered up a weak smile, but it seemed like an unnecessary attempt at falsehood. Slim's light blue eyes didn't miss a thing, as indicated by his frown line on his forehead.

"Let's go, huh?" Jess spoke as lightly as he could. "I'm anxious to get as far from this hole as possible." He smirked at the sheriff, who nodded gratefully for Jess' unspoken forgiveness.

Slim led the way to the horses and checked his cinch. Jess moved to follow, but his eyes were drawn to the figure of the man he had stewed over since the fight, and all feelings of the calm he had found earlier deserted him. "Sanders…," he growled.

He started to cross the street when a hard hand fell on his shoulder and halted him. Slim's large frame blocked his path. "Jess, think about what you're doing," Slim's desperate voice pleaded. "You don't know the whole story."

Jess felt ugly feelings of betrayal course through his heart. "Slim, you're takin' his side?"

Slim's other hand came up to grip Jess' jacket as the Texan tried to shove past the rancher. "There aren't any sides to take, Jess. The man has a right to send is daughter to the city if he wants. Leave him be. You'll make things _so much_ worse if you cross this street right now." When Jess refused to meet Slim's gaze, Slim continued with something that stilled Jess. "Think of Malinda. Don't hurt her anymore than you already have."

Jess looked into his friend's face, a face so full of caring and truth. He struggled in a battle between his better judgment and the famous Harper temper.

Slim mistook Jess' hesitation as surrender. "Come on, let's go back home." He loosened his grip on the tan fabric of Jess' jacket.

Now released, Jess muttered, "Be just a minute, pard." He started across the street, evading Slim's clutching hand by breaking into a jog.

"Jess!" Slim shouted, drawing the attention of the banker, who had been standing forlornly staring in the direction the stage had gone. The older man turned and took a step back apprehensively.

"Sanders, I got somethin' to say to you, and I'll say it quick so's not to give you a cause to slap me like a slighted princess." Jess pointed his finger. "You're a meddlin' little heap of scat. I can't blame you for protectin' your daughter from me. Sure, all those things you found out 'bout me were true. But that still don't give you the right to trick her into leavin' here… _leavin'_ _me_." Jess drew himself up to his full height. "And I won't quit on her until _she_ tells me to get lost. Be seein' you, Sanders." With that, he wheeled about and collided with Slim.

The blond man was like a brick wall, his eyes thin slits. "Feel better, pard?"

Jess staggered back a small pace. "Yeah, as a matter of fact." He stomped over to his horse and cinched the saddle. His pard followed, shaking his head. Neither noticed Sanders stride quickly toward the telegraph office.

The two friends had been at home for almost an hour, doing chores. Jess finished and ambled up to where Slim was working on some tack. He stared down at his boss silently for an uncomfortable amount of time, and finally Slim couldn't take it any longer. "Just say it," Slim impatiently demanded.

"Say what?"

"You know what. Yes, you can have some time off. But I don't think it is a good idea."

Jess toed the ground. "Slim, I..."

Slim stood and hung a bridal on a nail, his anger becoming audible as the metal bit struck the wooden wall of the barn. "You're going to get into trouble, and there won't be anybody friendly around to bail you out."

"Just hold on one minute. I'm only gonna go to her and talk things through." He hung his head for a moment. "I've had some time to think now…and I think I need to tell her to move on with her life…so I can move on with mine." His stormy blue eyes gazed out at the Wyoming wilderness. "I really don't think I could drag her out here, to all this. I think I knew it all along. But while it lasted…pard, that was somethin'. It was somethin' 'cause it was comin' from a lady of quality. I never thought I'd be worth someone like her." His face fell a little. "Well, looks like I weren't after all."

Slim immediately felt his stiff demeanor soften as he felt genuine sorrow for his friend; Jess' woes were not uncommon to drifters all over the West. "Don't be bone-headed, Jess. You deserve _better_ than her. Class and family don't have anything to do with what's in here." Slim patted his heart. "Do what you need to do, pard. You know which road leads home."

Jess grinned, his mischievous eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll be back before you know it…back to the ol' Bachelor's Ranch!"

Slim shook his head in amazement at his pard's cheeky attitude but waved just the same when the younger man took off toward Cheyenne.


	3. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Thanks to everyone who has read or reviewed so far! The kind words keep me going. This chapter is pretty long but has some action, so stay tuned!

Chapter 3: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Jess camped two nights on the trail, dining on beans and bacon and sleeping beneath a blanket of stars. In the morning he was back on the road, the rising sun in his eyes. The country between Laramie and Cheyenne was rough, but beautiful. Jess took in every sight with appreciation. He recalled the first time he had journeyed down this road, going on a year and a half ago. He had been in hot pursuit of a so-called partner, who had stove in Jess' head for poker winnings. Poor Pete Morgan, lying cold in his grave.

Jess shook off the chill that swept over him. Despite all that Pete had done to him, Jess had at one time liked the man. Killing rips a piece off of a man's soul, leaving a scar, especially when the dead man was not a stranger. Jess rubbed his chest at phantom pain, coming from the area around his heart.

Jess shook his head. No sense dwelling on the past; the present was troublesome enough. He had been mulling over what he wanted to say to Malinda the whole ride, but speeches weren't his strong point. Best to just go with his gut, like usual. Maybe he would let her start it all off, say her peace. He wasn't really sure what he wanted anyway. "Shucks," he said to Traveler, whose black-tipped ears swiveled backwards, "you're all I really need, Trav. Women're nothin' but trouble." Jess was struck by his own words. "If I know that, then why the heck did I ride all the way out here?" A small voice in the back of his head whispered, " _Because I want a woman all my own someday.._."

He shook his head in amazement at himself. Sure, he wanted a woman all his own someday, but he was finally beginning to see what Slim surely knew along: this whole trip was just about Harper pride, nothing more. He mentally shrugged. He had come this far already. Might as well talk to Malinda and see how she was feeling about everything. Maybe they'd give it another shot, maybe not. All Jess knew was that he sure wasn't going to let some uppity banker tell him what to do.

His mind made up, he urged Trav into a long trot, and soon he reached flowing water. He paused at the small stream to let Trav get a drink, and soon he was pulled back to a memory of the end of his Cheyenne-to-Laramie trip… He still smirked at the recollection of Slim's face when Jess stole the rancher's rifle out of his hands.

A horse's whicker up ahead brought him out of his reverie. Traveler answered in kind before Jess could stop him. Jess nervously pushed the leather thong off his pistol and eased the heavy iron out of the oiled holster before allowing his mount to walk forward.

Around the corner stood a small buckboard with its team pawing the earth nervously. Jess approached it uneasily. The rig was empty except for a large basket filled with blankets on the floor in front of the seat. Jess looked around at the trees, then at the ground. The pine needles were disturbed in crazy patterns, leading toward the forest. He dismounted and tried to make sense of it all. Then he saw something he didn't like: a man's boot prints, and the unmistakable smaller print of a woman's shoe. His stomach clenched as his imagination told him what he didn't want to think…but his suspicions were confirmed when he heard a muffled scream, and an angry male voice.

Jess quickly sprinted silently across the needle-covered ground, which rendered his boots silent except for the slight jingle of his spurs. He followed the scuffle-marks to a small clearing. He crouched behind a shrub to assess the situation. A roan horse was tied to a tree, but what drew Jess' attention were the man and woman. The man had her pinned to the ground by sitting on her hips. One grimy hand was all over her face, trying to keep her silent. The man's other hand was touching her throat almost gently, fingers messing with the buttons of her simple dress. "Come on, honey," he was saying with a sickeningly sweet voice, "we know you've had lots'a men before. We do you gotta fight me? You be nice to me, I'll be nice to you." His large fingers were having a difficult time, so he grabbed the collar and tore the front of her dress open.

Jess could watch no longer. "HOLD IT!" he shouted as he leapt into the clearing. The man's head whirled around, his face flushed with the anticipation of what had been about to happen.

"Who're you?" he sneered.

"The man about to blow your head off if you don't let go of that lady, RIGHT NOW!"

"Lady?" the weasel-like man laughed. "Why, she ain't no…"

At that moment, the woman took the opportunity to bite the man's restraining hand. He squealed and slapped her face. Jess quickly ran forward and hammered the man on the side of his neck with his pistol. He fell off of the woman, hitting the ground cussing. The woman rolled away from the man, trying to keep her dress closed. Her hair was mess under a sunbonnet, which had slipped down over her face. She scrambled to her feet, coming up next to Jess.

He looked down at her dirty and tear-streaked face and smothered a gasp. "Lucy, what…Lucy!"

Her wild eyes blazed into his, recognition filling them. "Jess, how…where…?"

When Jess had been riding across the country, searching for his ex-partner, he stopped at ranches to earn a little traveling money. Outside of Cheyenne, he had stopped for a few weeks when Traveler went lame, and got a temporary job on Lucy's father's farm. Jess was too busy working in order to leave, so they hadn't interacted much. He had admired her from a distance for her kindness, friendly demeanor, and of course, her cute freckles and strawberry-blonde hair.

Interrupting Jess' memories, the scoundrel spoke up, holding his neck "Hey now, I was just playin' 'round…," he whined.

"Yeah?" Jess snarled. "I bet. Throw away your gun. I'm taking you in to the sheriff."

"Please, don't do that. It's not necessary," Lucy appealed.

"Lucy, I know this can seem like a shamin' thing, but it ain't. This man's gotta pay for what he tried to do…"

"Please, I can't have anybody know, please!"

Jess took in this information, but forged ahead anyway. "Well, just the same, I'm still gonna rustle this fine gent—" he booted the fallen man in the behind as he tried for his gun—"into town."

"Please don't," she pleaded desperately, grasping his arm. "Just…just throw away his gun, and turn his horse loose, and…," her eyes held a small hint of conniving, "…take his boots."

Jess thought this over. He liked the way this girl was thinking. "All right, I reckon that'll be fine punishment, if that's what you really want. I still think he ought to be thrown in the hole for this."

She smiled weakly at him, nodding slightly, her hands clutching her dress front. Rapidly, Jess shucked out of his jacket and held it open, his eyes carefully adverted toward the man on the ground. Blushing, she turned and slid her arms into the sleeves.

At the sight of her helplessness, Jess tried not to let his sense of justice overpower his decision. Still, he could see the woman's point of view. Oftentimes, whether the assault was carried through or not, a woman had to live with the shame and degradation forever. People just couldn't seem to see her the same way after such a horrendous event occurred.

He glared down at the man, who had seemed to recover his dignity to a degree. His body language spoke of barely contained anger. "You'll pay for this, stranger, if you do what she says."

Jess kicked the man in the leg, relishing the grunt of pain. "Unlike her, I ain't got much mercy. Get them boots off, _now_ ," he ground out.

The man grudgingly complied, moving slowly and carefully so not to get shot. Lucy had fetched the man's horse and gun. At Jess' nod, she started leading it back to the road. Jess chucked a pinecone at the sock-footed man, hitting him on the head. "Get movin'."

They reached the road a length behind where the wagon was parked. Lucy was standing in the road still holding the reins of the horse. "Get," Jess shouted. The man started walking slowly away from them. Jess aimed at the dirt behind the sock-clad feet and shot off his pistol a couple times. "Run, skunk, run, or this next one'll be in your backside!"

He laughed inwardly at the sight of the cowardly figure dashing down the road as fast as possible, hopping painfully when his tender feet met rocks or pinecones.

He turned around just in time to see Lucy waver. He leapt for her, barely catching her as she fell. Her face was white as he carefully hoisted her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as her head lolled against his shoulder.

"For what? You don't weigh nothin'." He started carrying her toward the wagon. "Uh, Lucy, don't you think you should at least tell your pa what happened, so he don't think that I, uh, that I done anything wrong?" he finished uneasily. Lucy's pa was a severe and strict man, not one who appreciated anyone messing with his daughter.

Her eyes widened, "My pa, oh, he ought not to know! He'll…he'll be so upset…" Her voice faded off.

Jess reached the wagon and laid her on the back. He grabbed one of the blankets from the basket and put it under her head. He stood back and noticed for the first time that there was blood on the sleeve of his light blue shirt. "What the… Lucy, I think you've been hurt."

She reached her shaking hand to the back of her head, looking surprised when her fingers came back bloody. "Well, gosh, I guess I have." And she promptly passed out.

Jess panicked at this new development. Fingers fumbling at her throat, he found a pulse. He heaved a sigh of relief. He carefully lifted her head, noting that her strawberry-blonde hair was stained a much darker red than natural. She must have hit her head on something when that cur threw her on the ground. Jess quickly yanked out his spare handkerchief and pressed it to the wound. The bleeding wasn't coming from a large area, but Jess knew from experience that head wounds bled like the dickens and could be more dangerous than a much larger cut on another part of the body.

He folded the kerchief and tied it to her head with the bandanna from around his neck. Then he tied his horse to the back of the wagon, after which he shooed off the other man's horse. The horse began galloping in the opposite direction that the man had run, Jess noted with satisfaction. The team was antsy and started to follow the fleeing animal, so Jess leapt up in the seat and grabbed up the reins, pulling back. They stomped impatiently but held. He leaned down in the seat and pulled out another blanket to cover Lucy…and nearly jumped off the buck board in surprise.

There, deep inside the basket, was a little face staring up at him. "A _baby?!_ " Jess shouted incredulously. Somehow, throughout all of the events leading up to this moment, the baby had remained silent. But this change in temperature, plus the shouting of the strange man hovering over him, stirred up a loud wail.

Jess stared at the baby helplessly. A baby? Well, this was a woman laying here. Women had babies all the time. Why shouldn't this one be carrying one around with her…except Lucy wasn't married the last time he had seen her. Jess glanced down at Lucy, hoping to see her eyes open. She would know what to do with a crying baby. Jess snorted at his own foolishness. Even if she was conscious, she was injured. He would have to take care of the little guy himself.

"Man up, Harper, it ain't a porcupine," he bravely accosted himself as he reached his big tan hands down into the make-shift baby bed. Trying to remember how women picked up the little people without hurting them, he lifted the squirming child into his arms. He appeared to be a little bit from being a year old, if Jess knew anything about their age to size relation. Out in the open, the child screamed even louder. Jess wrapped the boy—at least that's what he thought it was—in the blanket he had intended to put on the woman. He bounced the little follow a bit, saying, "Shh, shh, lil' baby's gonna be just fine." The baby squawked a little, but then calmed. He opened huge blue eyes and stared into Jess' face. "There, that's a boy. Good…job," he finished awkwardly.

He managed to put the remaining blanket over Lucy's form with one hand before picking up the reins. He clucked at the horses, and they eagerly started walking. The baby chortled at the strange noise, and Jess couldn't help but grin back. Then he sobered. He sure was glad Slim wasn't around to see this.

The little group reached town in about 15 minutes. Lucy still hadn't awakened, a fact that worried Jess. He asked a gaping man directions to the doctor. The man pointed without a word to a store front a couple city blocks down. Jess groaned. Already a crowd was beginning to gather. So much for sneaking in to see Malinda.

Twenty or more people followed them to the doctor's. Jess clamored down with difficulty, trying to cradle the baby properly. Everyone stood around them, staring. Jess looked at the baby, and then at unconscious woman. He couldn't carry both of them. He scanned the crowd for a friendly face, but saw none. Then, from the back, came a boisterous voice. "What's goin' on here?"

Jess stared in disbelief as a middle-aged woman came shoving her way through the crowd. She was big and brawny and wore britches like a man. She reached the wagon in seconds. "Wait a minute…it's you!" she cried in dismay.

Jess couldn't tell who she was yelling at. Then, with a start, he realized she was staring right at him. "What? I ain't…"

"What the heck're you doin' here! I thought you'd have enough sense to stay away from here!"

Suddenly it was like a wave of recognition swept over the crowd. Jess could hear them murmuring to each other, the most recognizable statement barely audible: "It's _him_."

The crazy woman noticed the prone girl at this time. "AH! Lucy! What have to done to her?!"

"Done to—I ain't …"

"Shut up!" she roared. She held out her huge arms. "Give me the baby. You're gonna get her inside to the doc."

A little white-haired man stood on the porch with his hands in his pockets, like he didn't have a care in the world. "Good to see you back, Jess," he cackled.

Jess' head was swimming. What the blue blazes was going on? Was everybody around here loco? He hadn't hardly spent enough time in this town to be recognized, at least not by regular old townsfolk.

The large woman brusquely snatched the little child from Jess' arms. The baby started howling instantly, but the woman ignored him. "Well, get her in there!"

Jess hopped to it and pulled Lucy into his arms. She fit just right, just as he thought she would. Jess shook off the thought. _"For Pete's sake, ain't you got enough trouble? Why're you thinkin' about her that way?"_

He carefully positioned her head so that his arm wouldn't jostle the wound. A middle-aged man appeared at his side. "I'm the doctor," he said quickly. "Follow me."

"'Bout time you got here," Jess muttered. The crowd followed him up the steps but stopped outside the door. The doctor shut it after the masculine woman entered with the baby. The man quickly shut the curtains to block peeping eyes.

"Just set her down on this table," the doctor indicated. Jess lifted her high so that her feet cleared the edge before gently laying her down, using both hands to rest her head on a pillow.

The doctor pulled out a stethoscope and began his examination. "What happened?"

"Well, she…," Jess hesitated. He didn't want to go against Lucy's wishes. "She, um, fell. Hit her head on something."

The doctor raised a brow. "Did she catch her dress on something on the way down?"

Jess felt his face flush. "Uh…," he stammered. The doctor turned to a young woman wearing a nurse's dress and whispered something in her ear. She nodded before exiting quickly.

The huge woman barreled up at this moment, holding the child like a sack under one arm. The little fellow was squalling to beat the band. "Doc, this here's Jess Harper!" she shouted, as if that would explain everything.

Jess waved his hand in an angry gesture. "Now hang on, why are all'a you people waving my name around like a curse! Sure, my name's Jess Harper, I'm from Laramie, and I've only been to Cheyenne a few times in my life! And give me that baby, before you shake his brains out!" Jess snatched the baby from the woman.

The woman released her hold with shock. "Well, I never…" The baby immediately quieted and nuzzled into Jess' chest. Jess felt even more relief that Slim was not with him on this trip. He would have a heyday with this!

Meanwhile, the doctor had ignored both of them and had finished his ministrations. "This is just a bad bump with only a little break in the skin. Shouldn't need any stitches, if she's careful." He pulled out a bottle from his desk and waved the open mouth below her nose. She gasped and awoke with a start.

"Lucy," the strange woman said very quietly, her decreased vocal volume a phenomenon Jess had yet to witness. "How do you feel, honey?"

"Jeremy? Where's Jeremy?" Lucy asked weakly.

Jess thought that must mean the baby, so he stepped forward. The young lady looked up at the child. "You're taking care of him. That's so nice of you."

He blushed. "Well…" She held out her arms, and Jess gratefully lowered the baby into them.

Someone knocked on the door. The doctor admitted a man about the same age as Jess. He was nicely dressed in shiny knee-high boots with flashy spurs, clean jeans, and red bibbed shirt on which was pinned a deputy's badge. The nurse came in as well. "I could only find Deputy Grant, Doc." She exited the room, looking fearful.

Jess felt his gut tighten, just like any time he encountered a lawman. The young men sized each other up, both sets of eyes hard with experience of violence.

The lawman spoke finally. "You sent for me, Doc?"

"Yes, Wayne. This young man claims that Lucy just fell and hit her head, but notice the bruising on her throat and face…as well as the state of her dress."

"I already told you, I didn't have nothin' to do with that! It was…" Jess cut himself off.

The deputy looked down at Lucy, who looked back up at him with big eyes. "He's telling the truth, Wayne. He just…found me like this."

Grant nodded, but his face was still set like steel. "Then who did do it, Lucy?"

Her mouth because a tight line. The deputy sighed, and his shoulders fell a little. "C'mon, Lucy, tell me." He hesitated a minute, before saying angrily, "It was Fred Ames, wasn't it? I can tell just by looking at your face!"

Her silence told the truth. Deputy Grant took off his hat and stuffed a hand into thick sandy-brown hair in a frustrated gesture.

Jess watched, feeling like more like a witness to a private interaction than a suspect in an assault. He felt like sneaking out, but the large woman was standing in the doorway with her fists on her wide hips. Her eyes dared him to do something rash. Jess eyed her up and down. She was almost as tall as him, and probably weighed as much if not more. Jess was still on the thin side, though Jonesy had been trying to fix that. _"Good ol' Jonesy. Dang, I'd give anything to be home with the folks right now, 'stead of bein' in this whole mess,"_ he thought ruefully. _"All this to tell a gal that I think we should move on. I'm a dadgummed fool."_

Lucy was talking. "This man rode in and well…helped me." Her eyes were wet as they fell on Jess. "If it hadn't been for him…," she sniffled. "He's even taken care of Jeremy for me."

The large woman stepped forward. "Lucy, you can't keep it a secret. We know who he is."

Lucy looked confused. "You do, Meg? Is it a big secret?"

Meg threw up her hand. "Even a simpleton could look at that baby and that boy and know what's goin' on. The baby's got the same hair and eyes. It's obvious where the child came from." Her eyes held absolute revulsion as she glared across the room.

Jess looked down at the baby in her arms, at the child's dark shock of black hair that was just starting to have a little wave to it, and those blue eyes. Jess had just assumed that she had married in his absence, what with the baby and all, but… "Wait, you think…"

Realization dawned in the deputy's eyes, and before Jess could react, he was grabbed by his shirt front and shoved into the wall.

The doctor jumped in between. "Hold on, now! This is a medical office!"

The deputy pointed a finger at Jess's nose. "You're Jess Harper, _the_ Jess Harper?"

Jess jerked from the deputy's grasp and shoved the man away. "Yeah, I am? What the heck is the big deal?"

Lucy was trying to sit up properly. Meg helped her. "Why are you all throwing such a fuss? I haven't seen Jess in…" Her face paled. "You…you think he's Jeremy's father, don't you."

Silence fell over the room like a heavy fog. Jess felt like someone had put a hand around his throat and was slowly squeezing his airway. This could not be happening.

Grant spoke up quietly. "It all adds up, Lucy. Jeremy and him look like they were cut out of the same cloth. You don't have to pretend with us. We're your friends."

"He's not his father, it's not true!"

Jess finally found his voice. "Listen up, all of you! My name _is_ Jess Harper, y'all's got that true, though I don't have an idea how you know that. I work on a ranch in Laramie. I just came up to Cheyenne for a quick visit. I ain't never spent more than a couple nights in Cheyenne the entire time I've been in Wyoming! And I ain't never… Well, all I did was work for her pa a spell ago…"

"Ol' Mr. Crowley out there recognized you, sonny," Meg accused.

"He was out of his head! I tell you, I stopped on my way to Laramie because my horse went lame. Lucy's pa set me up with a quick round-up and brandin' job. And I never dirtied Miss Lucy's honor, if that's about what you're gonna yell next."

"And just why should we believe you?" asked the deputy.

Lucy held up a trembling hand. "Please, everyone, I'm going to say more one thing, and then I'd like you all to leave."

The doctor stepped to her side. "That's right. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Can't you see that she's been injured? She needs rest, not nosy people trying to interfere with her life."

Jess wanted to applaud the doctor. Who did these people think they were anyway? They should mind their own business.

Lucy thanked the doctor and continued. "This is my story, and I'll stand by it, no matter what you all want to think or say. I was on my way to town when I saw some wild flowers growing by the road next to that ravine. I slipped when I was trying to pick some and tore my dress and hit my head. Mr. Harper stopped and helped me." Her determined face was betrayed by the waver in her voice. "Nothing else happened. Mr. Harper and I have never been involved _ever_. End of story."

The doctor cut off anybody from objecting to her story. "Alright, that's it. Everybody out. Lucy needs her rest."

Jess was more than happy to get out, but was halted by Lucy's soft voice. "Just one moment, Mr. Harper, please."

Everyone else reluctantly left the room, except for the doctor. The nurse entered at this point with the basket that Jeremy had been sleeping in and gently took the sleeping baby and placed him inside. "I'll get him some milk," she promised, and left again.

The doctor looked sternly at Jess after helping Lucy to lie down on the little bed in the corner. "When you're done, shut the door. I'll be right out here if you need me, Lucy." He went into an adjoining room, but left the door open. By the tone of his voice, Jess guessed that he didn't believe Jess' story either.

"Thank you for your jacket, Mr. Harper," she whispered as she struggled to get out of it.

He rushed to help, noticing her flinch when his hand brushed her shoulder. "My pleasure, ma'am, and please, call me Jess." He clumsily draped the jacket over his arm as he sat on a chair beside the bed. He pulled a quilt over her legs.

Lucy touched Jess' arm hesitantly. "What you did today…I'll never be able to repay you. You don't know what it's like, being a single woman with a child." Her eyes were bitter. "People say the most terrible things. You're the first person who's really been kind to me, besides Meg and Wayne. They're my only friends in the world, I guess."

Jess grinned shyly. "Well, you have me now too, I guess. Havin' a baby is a far less crime than some of the things I've done, 'specially when that baby's as cute as this one." He fingered Jeremy's little fist, and laughed a little when they baby's fingers wrapped around one of his.

A weak smile crossed her face briefly. "Why couldn't I have found you, instead of Davey? My life would be a whole lot simpler. He is…well, he was the boy's real father."

Jess squirmed a little at this. "Well, I reckon you would have had a hard time chasin' me down. I was hot after a low-life myself at the time." He flushed and choked when he realized what he had implied. "Ma'am, I didn't mean…"

"No, don't apologize. Davey was a low-life, it's true. But he was probably the smoothest talking one you'd ever run into. He worked for my aunt out in the country a ways. She was old and ailing, and I went out to care for her, almost right after you left. I fell in love with Davey… One night, my aunt came into the parlor after I thought she had gone to sleep and found Davey and me together. We weren't really doing anything, mind you, just a little kissing and such, but she was crazy mad. She fired Davey on the spot and sent him away."

Lucy laughed softly at Jess' face, which had been turning an angry shade. "Oh, just wait, it gets better. After Davey was fired, he decided that he'd rather see some country than stay around…mostly because his _other_ girlfriend had just told him that she was expecting his baby. I went out to care for her too, for she didn't take Davey's desertion well. She died hours after giving birth to little Jeremy here. I took Jeremy because there wasn't anybody else. After my aunt passed away, I came back here. It was just the right amount of time for my pa and everybody else in this stinking town to put two and two together. The baby's age fits perfectly to the time when you left. Everybody thought that my pa sent me away to have the baby so no one would know I was expecting. My pa couldn't turn me away, though, on account of the baby. At least, that's what he tells me every day."

Jess shook his head at Lucy's story of woe. "Sure am sorry to hear that, ma'am. So everybody 'round here's been thinking I'm Jeremy's father?"

"And I'm sorry to say I haven't said much to disagree with their story. Who would believe me anyway? And who could have known you'd ever be through here again? I thought you were on your way to better places."

The Texan squared his shoulders. "Well, ma'am, let me say somethin' for you. No matter what these folks say, you're an admirable woman for takin' in a little orphan. Takes a lot of guts to do somethin' like that, especially after what it's cost you. Part of me wishes I really was the kid's father, just so I could take some of that shame from you onto myself."

She blinked back sudden tears. "Why are you so kind to me? I don't mean anything to you. I'm just some girl, just someone you found being…about to be…"

He reached out for her, but at the last moment kept from touching her. It would take some time before she would take to someone touching her again. He contented himself with just holding up a hand to halt her speech. "Ma'am, you didn't do nothin' wrong, and don't you ever think otherwise. That cussed reprobate is the one to blame, not you. Both that one you been tellin' me 'bout, and that one today. None of this is somethin' you've done. None of it."

She choked back a sob. "Thank you, Mr. Harper. Those are the nicest words I've ever heard. God bless you."

Jess nodded and put on his hat. "Again, it's Jess, ma'am."

"Alright, then it's Lucy." She smiled faintly and closed her eyes. "I hope to see you again, Jess."

"I'll try my best…Lucy."

Jess received directions to the judge's house from a local store owner, who eyed him suspiciously. Either the story of Jess' odd arrival had spread, or the people of Cheyenne were naturally wary of strangers. Jess bet it probably was a bit of both.

He felt Lucy's story weigh heavily on his mind as he rode across town. He liked to think that if he had ever been in Davey's boots, he would have manned up and taken the responsibility of fatherhood…and married the girl too, for that matter. He gulped at the thought.

He reined in outside a large two-story house, painted white with a handsome set of porch furniture. What was even more handsome, or should he say, beautiful, was the young lady seated in one of the chairs. Thankfully, she was alone. Jess took a deep breath and dismounted. He flipped the reins over the top rail of the decorative fence that surrounded the house and opened the gate.

Malinda was reading a book when she heard the hinges squeak. She looked up with a start, her dark eyes alert and questioning. Her book fell off her lap with a thump when she saw who it was. "Jess, what are you doing here?"

He took slow steps forward, taking the seat she offered. He shrugged in response to her question. "Now that I'm here, I honestly don't know. On my ride up, I thought I was gonna beg you to try again. Then I changed my mind and was gonna tell you that we should move on with life. Now I guess I just want to know how you feel about it all."

She fiddled with her dress. "To speak honestly, I really don't know, Jess. I do think that you have changed from the way you were before we met, no matter what my father said about you. I just know that what happened back in Laramie…well, it scared me, Jess. It scared me because I…I liked it. I liked being fought over, fought for. But then I realized that maybe I liked it too much. Liked it more than I actually liked the man I was with. It has always been this way for me, Jess. I can't explain it. Maybe it's because I've been sheltered as a girl, on account of my cousin's death. I just had to taste that danger for myself. Now that I have…"

"You don't want to keep on," Jess finished for her.

She lifted her shoulders helplessly. "I have been searching my heart these last few days, trying to figure out how I feel about you. I can't place my finger on anything. Do you understand what I mean?"

Jess smiled a little. This was easier than he thought it would be. "I think we both missed out on something growin' up. You, it was a little excitement and adventure. Me, it was decency and quality people treatin' me nice. We saw these things in each other, I reckon."

Malinda placed a soft hand over Jess'. "You could be a poet, Jess Harper. I'm glad that we had our time together. It was a fine time, was it not?"

"It sure was." He stood up. "I wish you all the best, Malinda. You're one of the finest gals I've ever known, and I mean it."

She got to her feet as well. "Don't live in the past, Jess. You deserve the best that life could have to offer. And no job in a bank could give you that. Stay free, Jess. Happiness is where you look for it."

She walked him to the gate, arm in arm. As he turned to leave, she placed one last tender kiss on his lips. "Goodbye, Jess. I'll never forget you."

He watched her walk up to the house, giving him one last long look before closing the door. He shook off the daze he felt settle over him. That was much easier and much harder than he had anticipated, if that was possible. He had expected to feel more, he guessed. More relief or more regret, he wasn't sure, but just more of something.

He hopped onto Trav's back. Just sitting on his horse's saddle made him suddenly giddy. He was free! Free to wander again! No women were going to tie him down. He snorted at his foolish behavior. Running after a woman? Sounds like something Slim would do.

"Who was that, Malinda?"

Malinda jumped at her uncle's voice. "Oh, nobody. Just somebody I knew in Laramie."

"I heard you call him by name. What was it, 'Jess'?" Calvin Sanders crossed his arms, looking displeased.

She felt her pulse quicken. "Yes, I think that's who he was."

"Jess Harper?"

She turned around quickly. "I need to go get ready for lunch."

Calvin grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Don't you try to run away from this. That was the drifter your father sent you here to get you away from, wasn't it? I read all about it in the telegram he sent to me."

"Uncle Cal, you're hurting my arm!"

He released her and apologized, but continued his interrogation. His career in law was showing. "I thought you promised that you would never see him again."

"We broke it off! He was just…"

"Malinda, I thought you, out of all people, would realize that men like that have no business around young ladies like yourself! How could you forget this, after what happened to," he swallowed before saying in a strained voice, "Samantha."

She placed both hands on his arm. "Uncle Cal, you know that I miss her as much as you do. But Jess is just a friend, I promise! There is nothing between us! I will probably never see him again."

He put a hand on her cheek. "I wish I could believe you, but you sound just like Samantha did before she married. There was no reasoning with her."

He brushed past her and went the door and put on his hat. Malinda felt tears threaten as she watched him go. She didn't know for sure what he was doing, but she knew that it couldn't mean good things for Jess. She grabbed a light scarf to put over her hair and started off into the bright sunlight.


	4. Lunch with the Local Law

Chapter 4: Lunch with the Local Law

Jess sniffed in appreciation as he rode past a restaurant. It was just after high noon, and he smelled chicken. He dismounted and loosened Trav's cinch before hopping up on the boardwalk.

The little café was cool and dimly lit, thanks to the shades that were pulled against the heat of the day. He seated himself at a corner table and laid his hat on the table. The kitchen door opened to his right and hands laid out a fork and knife and a cup of water. He looked up to thank the waitress and his mouth fell open. He received similar reaction from the server.

"I'll be dadgummed," he croaked.

The huge woman, Meg, glared down at him. "I really ought to throw you out. You've caused nothin' but trouble for everybody in this town."

"The thanks I get for helpin' a lady out," Jess groused as he went to put his hat on and leave. A heavy hand slammed him back into the chair, and pain spiked up his tailbone. "What're you doin'?"

"Thankin' you, you sorry critter." She leaned in close, one hand on the table for support. It tipped alarmingly and Jess threw up his hands to support it, letting out a grunt when the task proved arduous. "I reckon you deserve somethin' on account of you helpin' my dear Lucy, though I also reckon that she deserves a lot more from you…like a name for that baby and herself."

Jess gulped at her suggestion, feeling blood leave his face. Other customers were watching the interaction with interest.

Meg stood back unexpectedly and Jess nearly tossed the table in the opposite direction as the balance shifted. The cup sloshed water onto the tablecloth. Meg ignored it and pulled out a piece of paper tacked to an old shingle. "Here's the menu. What'll you have?"

"Oh, I think he'll have the special."

Jess looked up at the newcomer and groaned. It was Wayne Grant, the deputy. It really wasn't Jess' day.

"Same for you, Wayne?"

"Sure thing, Meg."

The huge woman smirked at Jess before striding off to the kitchen. "Strangest waitress I've ever seen," he murmured under his breath.

Wayne seated himself across from Jess like an old friend. "She runs this whole place, boy. Cooks and everything. Lucy usually waits on tables, but then, you know why she's not here."

Jess nearly lost his temper but kept it in check when he noticed more people listening in. He shot them a heated glare, which caused them all to turn back to their meals. He directed his anger at the deputy. "I ain't a boy. Probably the same age as you."

"Temper, temper," the deputy scolded in a mocking tone.

"Don't you have anythin' better to do than harass innocent citizens?"

Wayne smirked. "You aren't a citizen of this town, and we both know you're hardly innocent."

Jess clenched a fork so hard in his hand he bent the metal. "Listen, you. The only thing keepin' me from beatin' the tar outta you is that tin star on your chest. So lay off, would you?"

The lawman held up his hands. "Alright, alright, cool off. Have some water."

Jess stared down at the table, trying to stay calm. "All I wanted to do was pay a quick visit to this town, then go home. I did not ask to be hounded every step by every man, woman, and dog."

Wayne spoke again, but this time his words held seriousness. "To be honest, I really don't think you're the kid's father anymore."

Jess' head came up in surprise. "You don't?"

Wayne waved his hand dismissively. "What kind of idiot would come back to the town where his scorned lover lived? No, you don't seem that stupid."

"Thanks…I think…"

"Mmhm," the man said thoughtfully. "I think I've seen you before. You came up here once for some rancher, right? For stock of some sort?"

"Yeah!" Jess exclaimed.

"Yep, sure seems to me that a man who had abandoned a woman in her greatest hour of need wouldn't come back now and again where people might recognize him and point out his shame."

"Why didn't you pick up on this when I first showed up? Now the whole town thinks that I'm scum."

"Yes, but old Mr. Crowley identified you as such by pointing out your identity. However, I cleared up the situation with him. Turns out he's a bored old man who likes to cause trouble for the fun of it. Life can get kinda dull around here."

"Glad I could liven things up." Jess' face took on an even more angry set. "Why are you here? Why aren't you out lookin' for…" He snapped his mouth shut. _Dang it, I almost let it out again!_

The deputy smiled at Jess' slip. "Out looking for Lucy's attacker? I would if she would positively identify who did it. Of course, I have my suspicions, but until she points the finger, I can do nothing." Regret filled his face. "Lucy'll be sticking with that story that she fell into a ravine picking flowers. The day she picks flowers is the day I wear a hat with an ostrich feather on it. She made you promise not to tell, didn't she?"

Jess nodded. This conversation was out of his control. The deputy was dynamic, confident, and intelligent, and had figured out that Jess and Lucy were covering up for what had really happened. "This fella you mentioned over at the doctor's, who is he?"

"He works for her father some, off and on. He's a no-good, and I know that he bothers her some. Until today, she's held her own. She's rather capable, actually."

"I noticed."

"And unless she accuses someone, I can do nothing. She's had to deal with _so_ much in her life. This was just another blow to her fragile grip on things. She has no one to turn to. But if she'd just let people in…" He shook his head. "While I don't entirely believe her story that Jeremy is not hers…and yours…, I don't disbelieve it entirely either. But then she tells a story like the one she told today, and it makes one question it all."

Meg appeared from the kitchen with two plates full of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. "Here you go, Wayne, _Harper_."

"Thanks, Meg," Wayne pleasantly responded, ignoring Meg's hostility toward his dinner companion. He sunk his teeth into a drumstick. Jess did the same, too overwhelmed by the day's events to try and respond to what Wayne was saying.

Finally, both men were down to their last cup of coffee, sipping slowly. Jess was mulling over the events of the day, wondering what he should do next. Maybe he should just head back home. He'd finished what he came to do. But then there was Lucy, obviously in need of a friend. But what could he do? It's not like he could take her away from the terrible life she led currently. She definitely didn't need to move in with a ranch of bachelors. That would only make her life worse, for then scandal would build up around Laramie as well.

 _A husband would sure help her out some,_ he thought broodingly. He didn't know where she was going to find one of those, since men didn't often just go around marrying up women who appeared to have lived in adultery. If not for her father, Jess had no questions about what Lucy's job may have been to support herself and Jeremy.

He fished in his pocket for some coins to pay for the meal.

"Hold it," Wayne said, and placed a greenback on the table.

"Oh, no you don't," Jess protested, finally locating a 2-bit piece.

"It's my meager thank you for what you did for Lucy today…and my apology for getting rough with you over at doc's. You didn't deserve what I was accusing you of."

Jess slowly replaced his money. "Alright, fine. We'll call it square."

They exited the establishment together, Meg watching with suspicious eyes.

Wayne pulled out a toothpick. "Where to now, Harper? Don't take this the wrong way, but if I were you, I'd head back to Laramie just as quick as I could."

Jess squared his shoulders. "You askin' me to leave, or tellin' me?"

"Neither. I figure you haven't done anything wrong in the law's eyes. But in the eyes of the moral citizens…that's a different story."

"You have a point," Jess conceded. "Don't like to turn my back on anythin', but this is a little outta my experience." He jerked loose Traveler's rein from where it was loosely tied. "Reckon I'll get some feed for my horse and let him rest up for a little while before I head out."

"Sounds like a plan," Wayne affirmed. Jess hated to admit it, but he found that he kind of liked the deputy. It was a rare thing for him, liking a man of the law. Wayne appeared to be cut from the same cloth as himself. He had that same smooth grace and confidence, and wore a gun like he could use it. But the real mark of a man of violence was the haunted eyes and uneasy glances at every unidentified sound; these were all things Jess had noticed in Wayne's demeanor.

The two men parted, Jess to the livery and the deputy to the sheriff's office. Jess saw to Trav, and then decided to go back to the doctor's to check on Lucy and her boy.

He crossed the street and headed down a boardwalk, but stopped when he heard a whispered voice call his name down an alley. He turned to see the flushed face of Malinda Sanders. "Malinda, what…"

She pulled his arm until he stepped into the shadows with her. "Jess, you've got to get out of here."

"I'm plannin' on it, soon as my horse gets some feed."

"No, you've got to go now." She looked panicked.

He took both of her shoulders gently. "What's the matter? You look scared."

"It's my uncle. He's looking for you, and he has the sheriff."

"So what? I ain't done nothin'."

"He'll find something to blame on you, if you don't get out of here. He saw us together up at the house and thinks that I'm still seeing you. He won't listen to reason."

"Easy, easy," Jess said soothingly. "I was plannin' on leavin' in an hour or so, but I'll pull out now if it'll put your mind at ease."

She sighed hugely. "Thank you, Jess. I would hate for anything bad to happen to you. Please hurry."

He steered her toward her house. "Head on home, Malinda. I'll go get my horse and be gone."

Malinda hesitantly stepped away from him. "You promise?"

"Sure do," he answered, and waved a little. She returned the farewell and hurried away.

Jess shook his head. Now he had two reasons for getting out of town pronto. Poor Trav wasn't even through his whole poke of oats. Jess bagged up what was left in a sack and got the bay ready to go. He made to lead the horse out into the street, intending to leave just as soon as he said goodbye to Lucy.

An older, heavy set man with a grey mustache stepped out from behind the door and in his way. A big shotgun was what drew Jess' main focus, for its two barrels were pointed directly at his belly. Jess stopped short of burying the muzzle in his stomach.

"Hold it, son," the man growled.

"You bet I will," Jess yelped, too shocked to care about the high pitch of his voice.

"Where you headin'?"

"Who wants to know?"

The man slowly lifted a hand to his vest where he pulled it aside to reveal a silver star. "Sheriff Burns, and I'm askin' the questions here."

Jess angrily snarled, "You sure could ask 'em without jabbin' that cannon where it oughtn't to be."

"Just a precaution. You've gathered up quite the reputation around this town. First I hear that you're that no-account gunslick Jess Harper. Then I hear that you're a womanizin' fella who's got a woman bearin' a child for him and then came back to beat her up, and then chased after the judge's niece all in the same day."

"The only part of your story that's true is the name. I am Jess Harper, but I ain't no skirt-chaser or a gunslick. I'm just a cowboy visitin' for the day. I'd sure like to make tracks, if that's alright with the law."

The sheriff glared but lifted the barrel of the shotgun so it pointed off in a harmless direction. "Just wanted to see you on your way, and to tell you that I'd better not be seein' you again."

"No promises, mister," Jess groused under his breath as he mounted up. He hadn't had such a poor reception in a town since the first time he rode through Laramie and was shot at just for looking like a gun for Bud Carlin.

He trotted Traveler away from the stable and out of the town. Judge Sanders stepped away from the wall of the stable. "He'll be back," he commented.

The sheriff nodded. "I've seen their like before, hundreds of times. He'll be in a grave before he's 30. Can't turn away from a challenge, even when it kills him."

"If there was some way to keep him away from my niece within the law, I would very much like to hear it."

The sheriff shrugged. "We talked it over and over. Until he steps over that line, there's nothin' we can do except watch and wait to dig him a grave."


	5. Disaster Coming

Chapter 5: Disaster Coming

Jess felt relief as he saw the edge of town, but also a sense of unfinished business. He felt deeply guilty that he had not said goodbye to the little family in the doctor's office. However, if he had any idea about things, he knew that Lucy would be taken care of. He had seen the way Deputy Grant had been eyeing her, and these glances were not lustful ones but held genuine regard and affection. He smiled a bit at the memory, some jealousy replacing the sadness.

He reached the same creek as on his way in, and stopped to let Traveler drink and rest. He got out the oats and let the horse have at it. Once his horse was comfortable, Jess seated himself with his back against an old pine.

He was there for a good while when he heard the approach of a rig. He was shocked to view the same wagon he had found on his way into Cheyenne. He jumped up, saying, "Why, Miss Lucy, you shouldn't be up already."

She pulled up, smiling. "Don't tell me what I can't do. I already had to fight it out with the doc. And don't worry. I'm ready for that coward this time." She produced a derringer from her pocket, much to Jess' shock. "Meg made me take it…not like I fought hard to turn it down." She put it away and made to get down, and Jess rushed to help her. She wavered a little but kept her smile. "Thank you, Jess. Just wanted to fill up my canteen."

"Let me," he gallantly offered, and stooped to fill the vessel. He rose to find her eyes fixed upon him steadily. He handed over her canteen, feeling uncomfortable for some reason.

She took a small sip, and then offered to him. He shook his head. She frowned a touch, and his head turned in inquiry. "You didn't come by before you left," she scolded.

He laughed a little, revealing the gap in his teeth. "Boy, believe me, I tried. Seemed I was stopped at every turn. I was pretty-well run outta town by a pack of dogs." He relayed his entire story as she got Jeremy out of his basket.

Once he finished, she gave a small whistle. "That's quite the day you've had there, Jess."

"You're tellin' me."

She shifted Jeremy in her arms, and Jess couldn't help but admire how wonderful they looked together. Nobody would believe that this woman wasn't the mother of this child, by blood or not. Love shone in her eyes every time she looked in the boy's direction.

He hadn't realized that he had been silent for an uncomfortable period until she cleared her throat. He looked up into her big eyes and noticed they were a pleasant, warm color. "Jess," she began.

"Yes, Ms. Lucy." He felt his nerves tingle, like he was anticipating something, but he had no idea what.

"Pa's been gone on business…Would you like to come out to the farm for supper?"

The hairs on his neck stood on end. _"Trouble, Jess, trouble!"_ his mind silently screamed. He ignored it.

"I'd love to, ma'am."

They pulled up into a modest farmstead, the chickens cackling and scratching. Lucy felt immense relief to see that her father's horse was still gone from the corral. Her head was pounding and the bright sunlight penetrated her skull like a spike, and she was very grateful that she didn't have to have another argument with Dad. She just couldn't handle that right now.

Jess was sitting quietly beside her, and she turned her eyes upon his face with a forced smile. "My father's not home yet."

Jess said nothing as he drove the team to the small house and stopped. He leapt down athletically, and Lucy couldn't help but admire his ease of movements. If she had attempted something like that, she surely would have face-planted. He was at her side in an instant, holding up a strong hand. She accepted it, suddenly feeling shy. "Thank you, Jess."

"Where would you like me to put the buckboard?" he asked as soon as she and Jeremy were on the porch.

She indicated the place, and he led the team over. She watched him, wondering if she was being foolish. Yes, she was. There was no contemplation needed. She was crazy for inviting another man into her life. She was even more foolish for picking one that had essentially fallen into her lap. After all, she really didn't know Jess that well at all. Sure, he had worked there for about a month, but not long enough to become acquainted. However, she was just so _lonely_. She couldn't help her little invitation to supper. It had slipped out before she could pull it back. She didn't know what her father would say, and she found she didn't care. He always gave her a daily tongue lashing, no matter what she did. At least this time there would be new subject material.

Jeremy squirmed in her arms, so she walked inside and closed the bottom half of the Dutch door before putting him down on the floor. He started crawling around, searching for his toys. Lucy smiled at him, feeling tears threaten unexpectedly. She couldn't help it and quickly pulled out a handkerchief to press against her eyes. What did she do to deserve all of this grief? Jeremy was the only thing that made it all worth it…but sometimes even the child's angelic face wasn't enough to drive away the dark shadows of depression. She lowered herself into a small padded bench against one wall, her hand fisted into an afghan her mother had made years ago before she had passed.

She had no idea how much time had gone by, but she started when she heard a scrape on the porch accompanied by a jingle of spurs. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see kind Jess' concerned face. He fumbled with the latch before entering, and then carefully sat beside her. His mouth worked, like he wanted to say something but didn't know what. " _Such a typical man_ ," she mused. Women's tears could stop any man's tongue.

She patted his knee and mustered her voice. "Thank you for putting the team away, Jess."

His tone was rough. "No problem, Lucy. It was the least I could do. Shouldn't you lie down? You've been hurt today. I can keep an eye on squirt here."

His compassion made her want to melt into tears again, but she held it together. "You've done too much for me."

"Anything for a friend."

She made to stand up, but the pounding in her head proved to be too much and she swayed a little. Jess' hand was on her arm, grasping in assistance, but suddenly she felt Fred's hands all over her…and her hand lashed out before she could pull it back. Jess' head jerked backward as her knuckles barely scraped his jaw, and his hands immediately went up in a universal sign of surrender. "I'm sorry, Lucy," he stammered as he jumped to his feet.

Lucy felt her stomach drop as she realized what she had almost done. "No, I'm sorry." Tears threatened again. Darn emotions!

"You've got no reason to be. You've had a terrible thing happen to you today. I'm only thankful that I…that I made it in time."

He was so kind, so trustworthy. He somehow couldn't be just any typical cowboy, but yet that was all he had claimed to be. She felt herself calm under his warm and compassionate gaze. A strange feeling rose in her chest, something she barely recognized, for it had been so long absent. She finally identified what stirred within her heart: hope.

Vic Turner rode his horse into town, pulling up in front of the mercantile. He had decided to pick up a couple things before heading on home. He stomped into the building, the bell jangling overhead. His gaze was drawn to bright colored bolts of fabric. He ran his rough hand over a green calico, thinking of his daughter. She would look fine in that color. However, thoughts of his daughter were often overrun with feelings of grief and betrayal these days. His daughter had done the unforgivable, tarnishing the good name of her mother and himself. Just the same, he couldn't deny the remembered affection and love for his little girl…

He shook his head before moving on to the essentials he had come for. The clerk put together his items, and as an impulse took him, Vic instructed the man to throw in some sweets his daughter had always been fond of.

The bell jangled behind him just as he turned to leave. He recognized his old friend, Calvin Sanders. He eased his weathered face into a small smile. "Howdy, Cal. Been a spell, ain't it?" The judge and he had been friends since childhood. He had watched Cal work his way up in the world, and now both men led comfortable lives.

"Vic," the tall man said, shaking the farmer's hand. "I'll cut straight to it…have you been in town long?"

"No, why?"

Calvin looked grave. "You'd better come with me. We've got some talking to do."

The two men went to the judge's office, and Vic was surprised to see the sheriff there, along with Fred Ames, the young man who worked for Vic time to time. "Well, Cal, what's goin' on? You've hardly said a word to me."

The judge invited Vic to be seated before perching on the edge of his desk. "Lucy was attacked today, and a young man brought her into town to the doctor."

Vic shot to his feet. "What? Is she alright? What happened?"

Calvin stood as well. "Now, now, don't worry. She wasn't seriously hurt. She's gone home already."

Vic's heart was hammering in his great chest. "Well, then, why'd you ask me to come here?"

"The young man, Vic…" the judge hesitated as though about to reveal terrible news. "The young man who hurt her was the same one who brought her into town. Fred here saw all of it." The hired man nodded eagerly.

The farmer's huge hands balled into fists. "Who? WHO?"

The judge placed a comforting hand on Vic's shoulder. "That young man was none other than Jess Harper."

Judge Sanders saddled his horse in his personal stables. Sheriff Burns lit a small cigar behind him, his own horse tethered outside. "That's some mean trick you just pulled, Cal, making that feller believe that his bastard grandson's daddy just showed up, and payin' his hired man to tell the story that it was this Harper that assaulted her."

"That line you mentioned earlier? I believe we've just pushed Mr. Harper right over it. How can he continue to pursue my niece if he's locked away for assault?"

"Harper's not just gonna lie down and take this. He's surely got friends, a home somewhere."

"He's a drifter. No doubt he'll drift on just as soon as he is released…which if I have anything to do with it, will be a long time from now."

"We'd better hurry out there," the sheriff said dryly. "Vic might begin to be suspicious if catch up with him before too long."

"How convenient that Vic has friends in the law, is it not?"

Jess smiled as he watched Jeremy blink sleepily on his spot on a quilt on the floor. The little group had eaten supper and now was relaxing in front of a small fire in the fireplace. The spring evenings could still get pretty chilly, so Jess had stoked up a blaze. Lucy smiled back and scooped up the child and carried him off to what had to be her bedroom.

Jess settled back with his cup of coffee and stretched his legs. He realized with a start how homey everything felt, how natural. Once again, the deep buried yearnings of every man emerged, the yearnings to have a place to call home and a woman and kids to share his heritage. Jess sighed heavily. Somehow, he knew that it wouldn't be happening any time soon. He needed to make a place for a woman before taking one into his life permanently. The incident with Malinda sure enough taught him that.

Jess' musings were interrupted by hoof beats outside. His senses on high alert, he uneasily crossed to where his pistol was hanging by the door, quickly buckling it on. One man, riding what looked to be a sturdy farm horse, stopped directly in front of the house. Jess' stomach clenched as he recognized the man—Lucy's father!

Lucy charged into the room, her face pale. Jess backed away from the door, unsure of what to do.

"Let me do the talking," Lucy commanded, just as the door swung open.

Her father was a large man, heavy from years of working hard. His face was typically not that of a mean man, but its current expression could have put this in question.

No one said anything at first. Lucy's father gazed evenly with no expression at the two younger people. Jess' hands flexed at his side, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two. Lucy finally could take the silence no longer. "Pa…"

Her father held up a hand. "Hold, Lucy. I know all I need to know. I stopped in town on my way home."

"It's not what you think," she objected. "Jess isn't Jeremy's daddy."

"I've heard that you were saying that over and over, but that don't make it so."

Jess concentrated on keeping his words level and calm. "Hello again, sir. I saw your daughter to town, and now home again. I was thinkin' on leavin' real soon to head on home to Laramie."

"I bet you were," the older man said with no sarcasm. "Pulling out so soon? I'd have thought you'd wanted to see more of…my daughter. It's been such a long time." He was beginning to show signs of anger.

Jess took a few steps forward, but Lucy clutched his arm fearfully. "Jess, it's alright. I'll be alright now. Why don't you go on home?" She turned her eyes toward her father. "Pa, it's alright. He'll go, and everything will be alright."

A vein stood out in Mr. Turner's neck. "Just like that, huh? Lucy, just look at you. Look at what he's done to you."

She unconsciously placed a hand on her neck where the bruises showed, despite the dimness of the room. "He didn't do this, he didn't…"

Her father's face softened just a fraction. "Love makes women act mighty peculiar, even defend the man who hurts them over and over."

Jess felt his insides quake with built-up frustration. "I ain't the man who done that! Some cur hurt your daughter today, and I drove him off!"

Mr. Turner turned his attention toward Jess. "I don't believe you, boy. Somebody saw you defiling my daughter yet again, but this time I'm around to fix you good. You won't be breaking the Lord's commandment again."

Lucy flung herself at her father. "Pa, what are you fixin' to do?"

"I don't aim to do anything that's not within my rights as a father and a land-owner…and that's throwing a trespasser off my land!" With that declaration, Turner pushed his daughter to the side and charged over to Jess.

Jess had never considered himself to be the largest man in the country; shoot, even Slim had a few pounds on the wiry Texan. However, Jess counted on his agility and quick reflexes to make up for his size. He easily evaded the large farmer's swinging fist, spinning toward the open door. He held up both hands defensively. "Mr. Turner, I ain't done nothin' to your daughter, except help her out in her time of need. But I'll leave now if that's what you want."

Jess' plead went unheeded, as the farmer once again surged toward the young cowboy. Jess tried to slip to the side once again, but was shocked when a huge hand managed to snag the back of his collar. Choking, he flailed at the massive arm behind his head as he was dragged backwards, his spurs catching on the rough wooden porch.

Suddenly, he was in open air. Jess had just enough presence of mind to twist like a cat and landed on his hands and knees in the dust of the yard. The breath lost in his violent descent was minimal, and he whipped around while at the same time coming fully to his feet. He came to the startling realization that Lucy's father had actually _thrown_ him bodily off the porch. Jess eyed the large man with more caution. Protecting himself without hurting Turner would be much more difficult.

Turner's eyes were ablaze, but there was no uncontrollable rage about him, only righteous fury. The man started for Jess again, and Jess quickly calculated his chances and came to the conclusion that there was no way the both of them were going to come out of this fight unscathed. He unconsciously placed his hand over his pistol, as if to reassure himself of its presence.

Turner pulled up in his tracks, but there was a triumphant look in his eyes. "Yes, defend yourself the only way you know how, coward."

Jess shuddered as his temper tried to take over. _"Keep a tight rein, Harper. He's talkin' to that rapist, not you."_

The farmer started taking slow steps off the porch.

"Hold it, Mr. Turner. I ain't gonna quarrel with you. I'm goin', and I'm goin' now!" Jess turned to go to the barn, Turner be darned, and collect Traveler. However, the familiar sight of a double barreled shotgun seemed to fill his sight. Gape-mouthed, he stared incredulously up at a small posse that had materialized before him.

"That's him, Sheriff! He's the one who hurt Miss Lucy!"

Jess' head whipped toward the voice and an unstoppable rage filled him. Seated astride a horse was none other than Fred Ames, from the incident on the trail that morning. "You…," Jess barely managed to squeeze out before the Harper temper took hold once again. Jess launched himself across short distance to where Ames was sitting on his horse, springing through the air like a wildcat to catch Ames in a full tackle. The flying Texan smashed into the other man and together they fell to the earth, Jess on top. The horses all panicked, thrashing around as the two men fought on the ground. They narrowly missed being trampled at several instances, but the men were too intent on killing one another to notice.

For a time, the fight seemed even. However, it soon became clear who the better brawler was. Jess smashed a bloody fist across Ames' ear, earning a howl from the scoundrel. Finally, Jess wrapped both hands around Ames' throat and began pounding the man's head into the hard-packed ground. Again and again he hammered, feeling the pent-up anger finally released. "This…is…for…Lucy!" he growled, accenting each word with another beat of the man's head.

He became indistinctly aware that Ames was no longer fighting back. Jess abruptly ceased his animalistic attack, taking small comfort that the other man was still breathing. He staggered to his feet, noticing through bleary eyes that the small crowd was all staring at him. He backed away, his purpose of getting to Traveler still firmly set in his mind.

"Hold it, son," a man he didn't recognize commanded.

Jess spat blood at the ground near the man's feet. "No, thanks. You people are insane! First I can't hardly get into town, and now I can't hardly get out of here! What is wrong with all'a you?"

"He means it, boy," the sheriff sternly warned, his ever-present shot gun pointed unwaveringly toward Jess' middle. "Don't make me use this."

"Come easy, son, and shed no more blood. You've done enough violence for one day." The man was tall and carried himself well.

"And just who're you?" Jess snarled.

"Judge Sanders."

Jess was floored. Pieces were falling together faster than he could make sense of it all. "You…you threw this all together… Why you…"

Jess' momentary lapse in attention proved costly as a blunt object struck him across his shoulders, driving him to his knees. The sheriff shoved him to the ground, hands against his neck and back. Jess ate dust and choked, but tried to raise a ruckus just the same. The double shotgun barrels just behind his ear stilled his resistance.

"Sheriff, allow me," that cultured voice said again. Jess gritted his teeth, grinding sand into his molars, as the judge's soft, long fingers gripped him around the wrists to hold his arms still. Jess braced himself for the inevitable – however, no amount of preparation was enough to keep the panic at bay when he felt the dreaded cold bracelets against his skin. He'd been handcuffed many times before in his life, mostly when in the prison camp. To feel them again was almost more than his psyche could bear, especially after such a blood-rousing fight. Adrenaline was still sweeping through his body, and he couldn't hold in the tremors. His fingers twitched madly, and he made fists to try to control them. The sheriff took this action as resistance, and smacked him across the back of the head before tightening the manacles even further. Jess' eyes smarted as he felt the metal pinch his skin. The sheriff grabbed Jess' gun out of its holster and stood.

Standing over the young man, Judge Sanders could hardly contain a smile of satisfaction. His eyes slid over to Ames' groaning form, feeling nothing but contempt. Sooner or later, once Ames served his purpose, Sanders would find something to charge the nasty cowboy with that would send him away and out of his hair. It didn't pay to have unscrupulous characters knowing things about oneself.

"Here you have it," Sanders crowed triumphantly to Turner, who was standing by with an overall drained appearance. The judge dramatically placed a boot on the handcuffed man's back like a big game hunter. When the young man writhed in protest, Sanders merely ground his foot in harder.

"Just get him out of here. I don't care what you do to him. I just don't want him fooling around my daughter ever again," the farmer sighed with a heavy slump to his shoulders.

"I know exactly how you feel, Vic," Sanders said with some genuine camaraderie. He too wanted this scoundrel away from the young lady in his life. "Be comforted to know he'll get exactly what he deserves. Get his horse, Sheriff."

Burns fetched a handsome bay out of the barn, already saddled. Sanders struggled to get Harper on his horse. However, the boy was dragging his feet and glaring at the judge with fierce blue eyes, and if he hadn't been handcuffed, Sanders would have felt fearful for himself. It wasn't every day he encountered drifters with so much gumption and nerve. To reassure himself, he pushed the boy against the horse so hard his black-haired head bounced off the hard saddle, sending him to his knees.

 _"PA!"_ a shrill voice cut over the yard. "Oh, Pa, what're you doing? How could you?"

"Lucy," Turner barked, "Get back in the house this instant!"

Lucy ignored him and ran to Jess' side, supporting him. "Oh, Jess, I'm so sorry. This is my fault…"

His face was covered in dirt, but she could still see the compassion shining through. "Don't apologize, Miss Lucy, this weren't your doin'. You were only used to get rid of me…"

Lucy's hands were torn from Jess by her father. "Come away, girl. This is a job for the law."

She struggled against his hold, screaming, "No, I won't let you take him! He's done nothing! NOTHING!" Turner bodily carried his daughter up the stairs of the house, her legs flailing in her skirts. She could only watch in horror as the judge grabbed Jess and, together with the sheriff, hoisted Jess aboard his horse. Jess' eyes held no blame as he was led away, but soon her sight of him was blocked as she was dragged into the house.


	6. Deals Made

Chapter 6: Deals Made

After the brawl in the Turner's farm yard, Jess felt drained and completely downtrodden. He had overestimated the judge and how far the man would go to protect his niece, even as far as making up a ridiculous story and having Jess arrested. Jess knew that he was in deep trouble, for his name, which people kept proclaiming over and over before, would work against him. In Laramie, he was beginning to develop a reputation as being an honest man, a hard worker, and someone you could call friend. However, everywhere else, he was still Jess Harper, gunfighter. Strange how one word could define a man, give people he'd never met a preconceived notion. He shook his head sadly. No sense feeling sorry for himself; he'd made his choices, and he'd stand by them. His past was what shaped him into the man he was today.

They reached town quickly, despite Jess' feelings of time standing still in his musings. The sheriff dismounted first, then helped Jess down. The man was gruff and strong, but he was not overly cruel. He steadied Jess when the young man staggered, his balance off from having his hands behind his back. Jess looked openly into the older man's eyes until the lawman broke the stare; Jess could tell that the whole situation was making the sheriff uncomfortable.

He did not have a moment to utilize this realization, as he was guided firmly into the city jail. He was pushed through the door, coming face to face with an open-mouthed Deputy Wayne Grant. "What…," the startled man started to ask, but the sheriff ignored him and pressed Jess through the outer office, back into the cell block. The fact that the sheriff chose the cell with no window did not go unnoticed by Jess. In fact, it was cell at the end of the hall way, with three solid walls, rather than one of those that were lined up at one side, sharing bars on some sides.

Jess endured the sheriff's pat-down search stoically. The man removed all the items from Jess' pockets and even pulled Jess' jeans legs up to look inside his boots to check for weapons. The sheriff was extra cautious and shut the cell door before removing Jess' handcuffs.

Jess pulled his hands away from the cell door and turned around, resisting the urge to rub his wrists. He could tell without feeling them that they were raw and sore. With all the jostling produced from being off balance from the ride into town and the severe tightness, he knew that more than a little skin was missing.

The sheriff gazed coolly at Jess once again before pointing at Jess' fine black empty holster. Jess slowly unbuckled it and handed it through the bars. It was not beyond him that the sheriff had allowed him the decency of removing it himself, as the action was awkward if completed by someone else. He nodded at the lawman. The small salute was not returned in kind, but the sheriff did give Jess unreadable glance before leaving. He shut the heavy wood door between the office and the cell block quietly behind him.

Jess placed his hands on the bars and leaned forward until his forehead rested against the cool iron. "Of all the bad luck," he muttered. Why did things like this always happen to him? It wasn't but a short time since he had been jailed in Laramie…and the root of this incarceration was the same: a woman.

The night passed uneventfully for Jess, but not for Lucy. She tossed and turned all night, thinking of ways to defend Jess but coming up with empty arguments. By the time she drifted to sleep it was almost dawn, so she missed her father going out to work. The entire day dragged by, for he did not return for the noon meal. It was late afternoon when he tread wearily into the house.

Lucy threw down the dough she was kneading and verbally assailed her father. First she tried pleading, then crying, then begging on her knees. Nothing seemed to turn the farmer from his decision to do nothing about Jess' case.

Finally, she quieted, no tears left to shed. She was surprised when she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her to her feet.

"I'm trying to understand how you feel, Lulu," her father intoned, using her childhood nickname. "I've been trying all day. But I can't understand how you could love a man who beats you."

"He didn't beat me, Pa. It was…it was someone else. Mr. Harper rescued me."

"Are you making up this ridiculous story with Harper to cover up your…previous sinful relationship, or this recent assault?"

"Neither, Pa. Mr. Harper is like a stranger to me. I never hardly spoke to him when he was here before. He helped me when I was in trouble. That's all," she sniffled. "He's done nothing but help me, not hurt me! I would do anything to make you understand."

"Anything? Then tell me who did hurt you. You must tell me."

She swallowed thickly. "It was Fred, Pa. He did it. That's why Jess thrashed him." She felt as though she had told a terrible secret, but it was one she could hold in no longer.

"I know that Fred's been sweet on you, girl. Shucks, he's even asked if he could have you to marry more'n once." His hand became a fist. "It's hard to believe that he would attack you. He's been an honest worker for me for a long time. It seems more likely that this young feller was the one that done it. After all, Fred saw the whole thing. Why should he lie?"

"I don't know, Pa…maybe because he did it himself and he's looking to cast the blame onto the man who stopped him?" she sarcastically spat.

Mr. Turner considered her statement before he began musing out loud. "You've got a point…but, Lucy, how do I know who I can trust? A woman in love would do anything, even the wrong thing. But, you are my daughter. Perhaps that boy really wasn't the one who hurt you…"

Lucy's head came up with this admittance.

"…But he is no doubt the man you love and had a child with."

Lucy gave up trying to convince her father of Jess' innocence and ran with her father's latest statement. "Then get him out of jail! Please, Pa, do what you can!"

"I'll see what I can do, on one condition, daughter."

Lucy gripped her apron with her hands, her breath stopped as she waited for his next words.

"You must admit that this boy is the father of your child, once and for all."


	7. An Unusual Sentence

Chapter 7: An Unusual Sentence

"This boy" was seated in a chair in a fairly vacant courtroom. The entire affair had been kept under wraps, so no spectators were present.

Jess' hands were cuffed behind him, but the restraints were unnecessary in keeping him still. The ever-present shotgun digging into his shoulder took care of that. He carefully kept his eyes glued to the floor, for he knew he would blow up if he had to look at that smug face of Fred Ames as he told his outlandish tale to the judge about Jess had attempted to defile Lucy. And of course this was a good story, seeing as how he was the baby's father…the cowboy went on and on.

Finally the judge had heard enough. "Harper," he barked, "have you got anything to say in defense against these very serious accusations?"

Jess slowly got to his feet, the steel pressed against his back his entire movement. "Sure I do, Judge. It's a pile of horse —"

The simultaneous slamming of the gavel on the judge's desk and shotgun barrel into Jess' kidney cut off what the cowboy had been about to say. He folded around his midsection and collapsed into his chair from the blow, nearly falling out of it the minute he hit the seat. The sheriff grabbed a fistful of Jess' shirt and yanked him upright. Jess gasped for air, but he wasn't surprised by the violence. It wasn't the first court in the world to treat their accused like condemned men.

"Easy there, Sheriff," the judge entreated, though there was a smugness to his tone. "Harper is innocent until proven guilty."

"Right, Judge. Just didn't want him to be disrespecting the court's all."

The judge nodded. "Sheriff Burns is right, Harper. You will use a respectful tone in this court, or I will throw you out and pronounce sentence without you."

"Don't know why you even need 'im, Judge," the annoying voice of Fred Ames intoned. "He's guilty as sin, everybody knows."

"Right you may be, Fred, but everyone deserves a fair trial."

"Then why don't you give him one!" The female voice cut through the stale air of the courtroom. Jess managed to turn to look toward the door, despite the sheriff's firm grip on his shirt collar.

"Lucy," he managed to wheeze out, his body tensing. The sheriff responded by further bunching his fist into Jess' clothing until his neckerchief grew almost too tight around his throat to breathe.

Mr. Turner guided his daughter into the room, a firm grip on her arm. "We've come to speak to you, Cal. Didn't know you'd be getting to a trial so fast." He looked down into Jess' face with something close to resignation and fatigue.

"Well, I thought it would be best to push this whole thing behind us, as quickly as possible."

"I see," Mr. Turner replied. "I know it's not exactly proper, but would you mind if I had a quick word?"

"I suppose not," the judge stated, and signaled the two up to the bench. The father and daughter brushed past Jess' shoulder, and as they passed, he felt a feminine hand press into his flesh for a moment. He stared at the back of her head, wondering what could be happening. Was she going to make an official accusation against Fred?

Jess strained to hear their conversation, but their backs were to him and they were speaking in low tones. The sheriff's tight hold kept him fast in his chair, struggling for breath for more than one reason.

Lucy glanced back at him at one point, her eyes full of tears and grief…and _guilt_. Jess didn't know how to respond to that look. Fear spiked through his core.

Judge Sanders looked very pleased at what Mr. Turner was saying. Vic gestured toward his daughter, then toward Jess, then back to his daughter again. The judge couldn't hold back a small smile at that point. He gestured toward the side door, which led to the judge's office and the hallway that connected the jail with the courtroom. Vic guided his daughter over to it, looking concerned as she pulled out a white handkerchief and buried the lower part of her lower face in it. They disappeared through the door, both bodies stiff with tension.

"Ten minute recess," the judge abruptly announced before tapping his desk with the gavel.

Jess gulped as the judge looked at him smugly for a moment before he rose quickly from his chair and followed the small family.

Judge Sanders shuffled papers around his desk, searching for the proper document. How wonderfully this had worked out! He tried to contain his glee for the sake of the sniffling young woman seated across from him. He finally found a paper with the proper letterhead and pulled out an ink pen. He dipped it in the ink jar and looked at Lucy Turner. "Young lady, you understand what you are agreeing to?"

She blotted the corners of her eyes before nodding glumly. The judge's eyes greedily scanned the page, easily recognizing the not the writing of a young lady's hand, but that of a man.

"My father…wrote up my statement…for me," she managed to force out between sniffles. Her father pressed his hand into her shoulder with a comforting squeeze.

"Quite right, my dear," the snake-like justice of the peace confirmed. "I can review your statement to the court after you sign it here." He held the pen forward, and her hand shook as she went to take it. "Thank you, Miss Turner. You made the right choice. Everything will be alright now."

The sheriff had finally released his grip on Jess' shirt, something for which Jess was very relieved. However, his relief was short lived as he started to consider what the Turners could be discussing in the next room.

Mr. Turner had been a nice enough boss, though nothing like Slim. He had been very protective of his daughter, and Jess had been around long enough to know to steer clear of trouble if he could help it. _"Yeah, sure, Harper. You know plenty about staying out of trouble. Ain't it dadgum obvious?"_ he mentally mocked himself as he twisted his wrists ineffectively in the cuffs.

The door opened again, showing a very grim Mr. Turner, an agitated Lucy, and a gleeful judge. Jess hated the sight of that.

Lucy and her father sat in the jury's box, as directed by the judge. Jess cringed at the gavel's crack against the wooden desk. "Court is resumed. A witness has come forward with a testimony she'd like relayed to the court, as she believed herself incapable of describing the event herself. I am merely delivering the story; I had no influence over the witness' testimony whatsoever."

"Ha!" Jess couldn't help himself.

The judge glared sternly at him over the top of the papers he held in his hands. "Sheriff, be advised that if the defendant makes another outburst, you are to silence him by any means necessary."

The sheriff nudged Jess none too gently, who sighed resignedly and readjusted in his seat.

"Ahem," the judge cleared his throat dramatically. "This is the story of Lucy Turner, as given by the Honorable Judge Sanders."

Jess could hardly contain a snort at the "honorable" part, but managed to hold it together.

"On an undisclosed date some time previous, Jess Harper stopped at her father's ranch to work during the branding season. His horse had gone lame, and he needed to make some quick money while his horse recovered.

"It was during this time that Mr. Harper and Ms. Turner became acquaintances. At least, that's what others believed."

Jess' breath caught. He looked wildly over at Lucy, but she kept her eyes downcast. His gaze was drawn back to the judge, who was looking at him with a sort of malicious joy.

"In actuality, Mr. Harper and Ms. Turner had become involved. He left after a short while, stating that he would return. After he did not come back, Ms. Turner wrote to him using an address he left her," the judge paused dramatically, "to inform him that he was going to be a father."

Jess lunged to his feet. "Lucy," he shouted, "what in Tarnation are you saying? That ain't true!"

The sheriff was true to the judge's word and tried to subdue the Texan. Jess wasn't having any of it. He shook off the grasping hands, lurched across the room, and fell against the jury box's short wall, his face inches from Lucy's. "Lucy…why?"

She didn't respond, but buried her face into her father's shoulder, silent sobs shaking her frame.

The sheriff dragged Jess away and slammed him back into his chair, resuming his previous hold on Jess' bandana. Jess didn't fancy getting choked, so he stayed as he was. Behind him, he could hear Fred Ames requesting to "help with the prisoner, Sheriff" and getting a brusque "get outta here." The brief interaction would have humored Jess, if not for the shocking scene unfolding in front of him.

The judge snapped his papers in annoyance. "Thank you, Sheriff Burns, for securing the prisoner. I shall continue… ah, yes. Mr. Harper never responded to the letter, until he returned to the area yesterday. He had not received the letter, as it was not an actual address. He had lied about where he was going. He became very angry when he learned of the child, and that Ms. Turner wished him to take responsibility for the child. It was during this argument that Mr. Ames happened upon the scene. He stopped the assault, but was attacked by Mr. Harper, who fired a gun at Mr. Ames, although he was unarmed."

"Yep, that's what happened, Judge," Fred enthusiastically exclaimed.

Jess could say nothing as the fabric cut deeper into his throat. His mind was swimming in confusion as it was, so he doubted he could have said anything intelligible anyway. His eyes darted toward Lucy, who had regained control to some extent and was mouthing _"I'm so sorry"_ repeatedly. He felt hot anger overtake some of the confusion at her apology. What the heck had come over her?

"Would the prisoner please rise…oh, never mind. I like you as you are, Mr. Harper." Judge Sanders perused the papers in front of him, as if he needed to collect his thoughts. "Initially, you were being tried for physical and sexual assault to the young lady, and assault and attempted murder to Mr. Ames here. I would have found you guilty, and sent you away for up to 25 years, possibly life. However, I have decided to have mercy on you, given the condition in which you would be leaving a certain mother and child." The judge steepled his fingers, gesturing with them toward the Turners. "Mr. Turner came up with the conditions all on his own. All you have to do is agree to them, and you won't have to go to prison."

Jess croaked against the chokehold, trying to speak. He drew in a huge breath after the judge indicated to the sheriff to ease up his hold. "Just what are the conditions?" His voice was more raspy than usual.

"Your custody will be signed over to Mr. Turner, to be served working on his farm for the rest of your life…provided that you marry his daughter and right the wrong you bestowed upon her." The judge leaned back in his chair. "Who knows, maybe he'll even make you partner someday? A son-in-law should get first chance at something like that."

Jess' jaw dropped. "I gotta marry her…and work for her Pa…for the rest of my life? Just how you gonna make me do this?"

Judge Sanders leaned forward, his face dark. "If you try to run away, I will track you down myself and send you straight to prison." He smiled toward Lucy. "Now really, boy, you liked the looks of her at one point. She's still very beautiful. Why would you turn down a chance like this?"

Suddenly Jess felt very cheap, for he was beginning to lean toward taking the judge's deal. What else could he do? Go to prison for something he didn't do…or be the father of a child who wasn't his? Somehow it seemed the less of two evils to marry poor Lucy.

He got to his feet once again, and was not hampered by the sheriff. Jess found he could not lift his face. "I'll do it," he muttered, his cheeks turning red.

"What's that?" the judge said irritably. "Speak louder!"

Jess threw back his head and practically roared. "You win, alright? You think we don't all know what this is all for? Well, I'll give in to your scheme, just as you wanted. It'll keep me away from your precious niece, is that it? At least it'll keep her from wanting me, huh? You're so blind, you can't even see how you're ruining poor Lucy's life!"

"Ah, no, Mr. Harper. You've already done that, all on your own. I'm just putting you in your place, and I've got the law behind me."

Once again, Jess found his gaze drawn toward the Turners like a magnet. Mr. Turner looked grim but satisfied, but Lucy…oh, poor sweet Lucy. Silent tears coursed down her face, and her handkerchief was crumpled beyond recognition in nervous hands. That did it.

Shoulders slumped, hands helplessly locked behind him, Jess asked in the most gentle voice he could muster, "Lucy, would you…I mean…would you care to…marry me?" He almost choked on the last words.

She looked up at her father's face briefly, before resuming her study of her hands. Her small nod was all the judge needed.

"Well, congratulations," he beamed with a sinister glow. He slammed his gavel one last time. "Sentence is given, to be carried out at the bride's convenience." He smirked at his own joke. "Sheriff, please return Mr. Harper to his cell. Perhaps he has clean clothes in his saddlebags for the ceremony. Wouldn't want him to look like riff-raff on his wedding day. Court dismissed."


	8. Best Day of My Life

Chapter 8: Best Day of My Life?

Jess let the sheriff drag him back to his cell, his mind in a stupor. He didn't notice when the cuffs were released from his sore wrists or when the door slammed shut behind him. He was still staring at the wall in unbelieving shock when quick steps approached the cell. He turned as the boots scraped to a stop, but was surprised to see Deputy Wayne Grant instead of the sheriff. The deputy's face was not friendly.

"What the blazes happened? I believed your story about not… not hurting her. How could you lie? You're as bad as the judge said you were."

Jess took a step back, his hands up. "Wayne, it's still not true. Lucy's pa made her say those things. C'mon, you know him better than I do. He'd do anything to get his daughter's shame lifted."

Jess quickly explained the entire story, starting with back before he first went to Laramie to the present.

Wayne's face started to show doubt. "Those things she said…"

"All lies. You know the whole story. I've told you everything now. It's up to you to decide what you'll believe. But here is the truth: I would never hurt her. I hardly knew her before, hardly know her now. But now…" He turned around in the small space, feeling horribly contained. He raked his fingers through his thick hair. "Now I've gotta marry her."

Next thing he knew, Wayne was swinging around and walking away quickly. "Wayne!" he called after the deputy, but the tall man pointed ignored the plea and shut the door to the office. Jess was left alone with his conclusion from earlier: Wayne Grant had it bad for Miss Lucy. This whole mess was killing him. "Well, Wayne," Jess muttered to no one, "why didn't you marry her before now?"

He slumped down onto his bunk, hands behind his head. He gazed up at the ceiling, but he didn't see the old plaster or moldy cracks. He could see his home on the Sherman Ranch. He could smell Jonesy's cooking, feel Andy's hair under his hand as he gave the kid a good tousling, and Slim…he could hear his friend's contagious laugh as his big face lit up in that goofy grin that just about split his cheeks. Would he ever experience the sensations of home ever again? Would Turner Farm be where he spent the rest of his days?

 _That Afternoon_

"Harper, turn your back to the bars."

Jess reluctantly crossed his wrists behind his back, swallowing thickly as the cuffs snapped closed. "That time already?"

"Not yet." The sheriff opened the cell and Jess turned to stare at the man.

"Where we goin', then?"

"Out back. I fixed up a tub for ya. You're dirtier than a hog. Ms. Lucy deserves better than that."

Sure enough, there was a little building behind the sheriff's office. The door swung open to reveal that it was actually a house — the sheriff's house, no doubt. A wooden tub sat in the small kitchen, full of water. Jess stared at it, feeling visible signs of embarrassment start to creep into his face.

The sheriff placed his hands on the cuffs before asking, "You gonna behave? Or do I have to leave these on?"

"Don't worry, sheriff, I'll be just fine."

"The only way out is through the front door, which is where I'll be waiting. The windows are too small to climb out, even for a guy like you. Your saddlebags are right there. Holler if you need anything."

The man released Jess from his restraints and left the small building. Jess was shocked at the courtesy, but spent no time thinking about it. He quickly undressed to get into the tub before the lawman changed his mind. The water was lukewarm, but the weather was warm enough that it didn't bother him. His wrists burned at the contact with the water and soap, as they were still raw from his arrest. He looked them over, feeling depression sink in, as the sight of them brought back too many terrible memories. He sniffed once, then commenced bathing.

He was drying off his hair when a knock sounded on the door. He scrambled to pull his shorts on just as the door swung open. The sheriff strode in as though it was a typical thing to have a half-naked cowboy in your kitchen. He pulled out shaving soap, a small mirror, and a razor from a cabinet off to the side. "Don't get any crazy notions about slitting your wrists or anything. Marriage ain't a death sentence, though some seem to think it is."

Jess cocked a brow but held back any arguments. "You get your kicks watching men get dressed?"

"Figure a man oughtn't be alone on his big day. Best day of his life, so I've heard."

"Hmph," Jess grunted and turned to the task at hand. "Best day, huh? I feel as though it would make the time sweeter if the man actually had any say in what was about to happen to him."

The sheriff sat at the table. "You had plenty of say when you left that poor girl with your baby on the way."

"You really believe that pack of lies?"

"It's not my business to personally believe anything. I just do what I'm required to do."

"Yeah, like help frame a man for somethin' he didn't do?"

The sheriff's face became very dark. "I do what I'm required to do," he repeated.

Jess sat like a statue inside the courtroom, his jaw clenched tight and his wrists back to being cuffed in front of him. His mind had been working feverously since this whole thing started, trying so valiantly to find a way out…but, alas, there was none. The sheriff stood nearby in the same sullen silence that had started back in his house, shotgun cradled over one arm. Something Jess said must have struck a chord in the lawman's psyche.

Jess' head turned so violently toward the opening door, he strained a muscle in his neck. His mouth dropped open at the sight of Malinda Sanders. What was she doing here? She came toward him, a forced smile on her face. She was a vision as usual, in a summer sky blue dress that complemented her complexion perfectly.

She nodded sweetly at the sheriff, who merely jerked his chin back. Her eyes turned concernedly at Jess. "Uncle Calvin told me what's happening," she whispered as she sat beside him. "I didn't think he would take it this far."

"You don't believe him? Everybody else seems to," Jess groused.

"I…I don't know, to be honest," she admitted. "I do know you, though. Even if the child is yours, I don't think you would have hurt Lucy. You're too much a man for that."

Jess hung his head, shaking it slowly. "Guess you're on their side after all."

She placed a hand on his arm. "What should I believe, Jess? You admitted to me back in Laramie that those things my father found about you were true. You think I am that naïve? I know what men like…" She ended her words with a blush.

Jess pulled his arm away, the word angry not even beginning to describe the way he felt. "Don't touch me like that. I'm an engaged man, and a _father_." His voice squeezed out the last word with vehemence.

Malinda stared at him a long time, conflict showing in her eyes. "Well, I gave Lucy a nice dress for her wedding gift and did her hair. You had better tell her how nice she looks! It's the least you can do."

Jess wished she would leave. This day was so bizarre, and she was making it even more so. Who heard of a previous love interest assisting the new woman in a man's life with her wedding preparations? Perhaps he really had dodged a bullet with Malinda Sanders.

Apparently he ignored his ex-lover long enough that she stood with a huff. "She's coming here, you know, to marry the father of her child. Show her the respect she deserves and your life won't be as bad as you're trying to make it out to be."

She really was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, Jess had to admit to himself as he watched Lucy be escorted into the courtroom by her father. Malinda had done a good job, dressing Lucy in a cotton white dress with a tiny green flower pattern and green ribbon trim. The cut was perfect for her shapely figure and the color suited her hair and skin.

She looked up at him once, her eyes showing deep grief but also bravery. He tried to smile, but found he could not move his mouth from the deep-set stern expression it had found itself in.

The audience was small, consisting of Meg and Jeremy, Sheriff Burns, Malinda, and strangest of all, Wayne Grant. He was looking rather haggard, like he had been drinking.

Of course, Judge Sanders was there to officiate. He gleefully went through the preliminary wedding ritual, going on and on about love, commitment, and honesty. Jess respected Lucy enough not to scoff at the judge's ridiculousness, but it was difficult to hold back that Harper tongue.

They got to the part with the vows, which threw the whole procession to a halt. It was at this moment when the judge seemed to notice for the first time that Jess was still handcuffed. He flustered at the sheriff, who argued back that Jess was liable to bolt at any second – which he was, after all.

Jess looked past the two law enforcers over to Lucy. She looked like she could faint at any time and was leaning heavily against her father's arm. Their eyes met, but no emotion passed between them. Both were simply lost in misery.

Finally, the cuffs were removed and the wedding continued. Jess and Lucy were commanded to hold both hands, which they did reluctantly. Jess' hands felt so hot and sweaty against hers, as her palms were cold as ice and shook like a leaf.

"Do you, Jess Harper, take Lucy Turner, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?"

A not-so-gentle nudge from the sheriff goaded Jess to choke out, "Yeah, I do."

The rest of the ceremony passed as a whirlwind for Jess. He barely heard the rest of the judge's words. He was startled out of his reverie from another prod from the shotgun barrel. He looked around blankly, wondering what he was supposed to do.

"I said, you may kiss the bride, Jess," the judge smirked.

Jess blanched, and suddenly kissing a girl was the hardest thing to do in the world. He glanced at Lucy, but she was no help. She did however tilt her chin up ever so slightly, but her eyes remained averted. Jess leaned forward awkwardly and brushed his lips against her hers, then jerked back stiffly. Lucy let out a small choking sound before wilting completely. Jess had no choice but to catch her up in an embrace to keep her from falling.

Judge Sanders slapped Jess on the back so hard he felt as though the wind was knocked out of him, and he struggled to keep from tipping both himself and Lucy over. Jess was terribly relieved when the bizarre justice of the peace stepped aside to speak with the sheriff.

Jess tried to catch a glimpse of Lucy's face, but she was adamant about keeping it pressed against his neck. He looked helplessly at Mr. Turner, who stepped forward. He placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "I believe that Mrs. Bower has prepared a celebratory meal at her home," he quietly mentioned, gesturing toward Meg. "Why don't we get out of here?"


	9. Man and Wife

Chapter 9: Man and Wife

The trip back to the Turner farm was uncomfortable to say the least. Jess rode awkwardly on the back of the buckboard, with the Turners in the seat – wait, Mr. Turner and _Mrs. Harper_ …

Jess felt like his head was stuffed with cotton, and he could hardly remember the small reception gathering at Meg's home. The entire evening was tense, as Lucy seemed almost catatonic with Jess on the receiving end of a steady glare from Deputy Grant. Even now, he could continue to feel eyes boring a hole in his head. The unfortunate deputy had been assigned to ensure that Jess was settled into his new home properly.

The deputy slow-trotted along on a sandy sorrel horse, leading Traveler behind him. As noted before, the man looked haggard, and Jess wondered if he was half-drunk. Upon making contact, Jess could see resentment, anger, and confusion swimming in those red rimmed eyes.

Jeremy giggled from the front seat, breaking the silence with such an innocent sound. He was waving around a toy in a chubby fist, and for one horrible moment, Jess resented the child. If it hadn't been for him, there wouldn't be this mess, no fatherless bastard to be claimed. Jess physically shook his head, dispelling such a negative and unwarranted thought. The child did not bear the sins of the father, but all sins have to be covered. And Jess was the sacrificial lamb.

Wayne and Jess put the horses away in the barn together, and the tension was so thick it made the very air seem heavy. Jess slowly rubbed down Traveler, taking his time, trying to draw out the moment for as long as possible. He wished he was back home, that the walk up to the house would lead to the sight of his friends. He didn't know what the walk up to this house would reveal. Would he even stay in the house? Or would they lock him up in some shed so he didn't try to run away? He couldn't resist the urge to ask. "So…what now?"

A snort sounded from another stall. "If the judge had his way, he'd chain ya to a post out in the yard. However, Mr. Turner stepped in on your sorry behalf. A man's place is by…is with… _his wife_." A slap of a hand against leather accompanied his harsh voice.

Jess stepped out into the open. "Wayne, please, I didn't want this. You know that."

The hard-eyed deputy came to Jess until they were standing barely a foot apart. "You've said it before, Harper. But is that coming from a man who don't want to step up to his responsibilities?"

"It's comin' from an innocent man. I thought you believed me."

Wayne threw one hand in a furious gesture. "Fat lot of good it would do anyone, me believing what you say. You're bound by law to stay married to her for good!"

Jess hung his head. "I know why you're sore, Wayne. I know you care for Lucy…"

Wayne shoved Jess back a step. "Care for her? You got it all wrong, Harper. I _love_ that woman."

The Texan put his hands up in a questioning pose. "Then why didn't you do anythin'? She's had this baby for over a year."

Wayne began to pace angrily. "Because…because the thought of askin' her to marry me…it was too hard. You don't know the things I've done. I couldn't ask a woman to be party to a man like me."

Jess felt Wayne's words resonate to his very soul. "Wayne, believe it or not, but I know exactly how you feel."

The lawman stopped in his tracks and searched Jess' countenance, as though seeking answers. "Yeah, I guess you would at that."

Jess felt his heart jump at this current breakthrough, only to have it sink again as his new father-in-law strode into the building. "Everything is ready, Wayne."

"Uh…right. Go on, Jess," the deputy uncomfortably motioned.

"Where we goin'?" Jess felt nerves began to dance once again.

Mr. Turner's deep voice answered. "To your honeymoon suite…not that you deserve it. But Lucy deserves it, so don't you forget it."

The crossed the yard to a building Jess had almost forgotten about. It was the original old one-room cabin that the family had first built when they settled there. When times got better, they built a bigger house and left the old one for hands to stay in. Apparently, they had no one hired on at this time.

Jess was ushered inside, relieved to find it empty. Typical frontier furniture with an oil lamp burning on the kitchen counter was all he saw. The door closed, and steps behind him caused him to turn around. A large hand fisted into his shirt front before he could react, nearly yanking him off his feet. Grasping hands did no good against the farmer's powerful hold.

"Listen to me boy, and listen good," Mr. Turner threatened. "I didn't mind having you around the first time you was here; fact is, you were probably the best hand I'd ever had. Probably would've said yes if you'd asked me for courtship with Lucy. But after I found out what you done to my girl… I've been waiting a long time to see you again. Now that you're back, properly wed up like you ought've done back then, well, you are going to _stay here._ I won't lock the door or nothing, but that's only because _I know_ that _you know_ that Judge Sanders wants you married to Lucy as bad as I want her to be. Only, his motives aren't as pure as mine. All I want is my Lucy to live without shame, like the sweet gal she was before you showed up. I can't promise you that it's gonna be easy, but you will be part of the family. Just remember all those things…you wouldn't turn your back on _family_ , would ya boy?"

Jess shifted his chin uncomfortably away from the farmer's breath. "Would ya?" Mr. Turner demanded again.

"No, no."

"Prison will look like a paradise compared to what I'll do if you break my daughter's heart _ever again_." Each of his last words was accented by a shake of the collar until Jess was sure his brains were rattling in his skull. With one last big shake, the farmer cast Jess backward. He skidded on his boot heels, catching himself against the table in the middle of the room. The door slammed half a second later, and though it wasn't locked, it might as well had been. Jess was trapped, and an invisible cage is always worse than one that is tangible.

Jess sat with head in his hands, miserably going through possibilities but finding no conclusions. His brooding was interrupted as the door creaked open, and Lucy crept inside. She was still wearing her wedding dress, though it had an apron tied in front. She had a basket in one hand and a bulging canvas bag in the other. Jess could smell food coming from the basket, and his stomach growled in spite of himself. He realized with a start that he hadn't eaten since yesterday's meal out here with Lucy, almost 24 hours ago. He hadn't felt like eating at Meg's after the wedding. So much had happened in such a small amount of time!

Lucy started forward with items, and Jess suddenly remembered his manners and rushed to take the basket and bag from her hands. Their fingers brushed, and she pulled hers away quickly. Jess tried to break the awkwardness by smiling, but it fell flat.

"I, uh, brought you some food that I warmed up once I put Jeremy to bed. I noticed you didn't eat anything at the, uh, party." Her eyes were averted, but they flashed at his face now and again.

"Thanks, Ms. Lucy," Jess said reflexively as he set the basket down on the table and the sack on a chair.

She blushed. "Um, you don't have to call me that…anymore."

He pulled out a warm beef sandwich and baked potato with butter. "Call you what?"

"Miss. I mean, technically, it's Missus now…" Her hands pressed her apron into a smashed-up mess.

Jess found he had no words to offer that would ease the moment. "Uh, yeah…" He felt his face redden and covered his clumsiness with eating. She rushed to pour him a cup of water from the pitcher on the counter. She carried the lamp over with her, for the sun had set almost an hour ago. They sat on opposite sides of the table, the lamp between them.

She nervously fiddled with her canvas bag while he ate, pulling out something made of white fabric before pushing it in again. She did this several times until Jess finally asked, "What you got there?"

"My, uh, my nightgown…"

Jess choked on his last bite and had to take a big chug of water to wash down the bread and meat. "Lucy, we don't…"

She stood abruptly and grabbed her bag, setting off to a screened-off corner. Jess watched her go over his shoulder, shaking his head at his own idiocy. "Get some tact, Harper," he muttered to himself. He noticed a wash bowl up against one wall, and went over to it. A pitcher with water stood next to it, so he poured himself some and unbuttoned to wash up. He kneaded his neck as he washed the back of it, trying to remove some of the tension. It was in vain.

Feeling suddenly fatigued, he looked around for somewhere to sleep. There was a double-sized bed over by the screened corner, and a couple bunks on the side of the room he was. He went over and pressed into a bunk mattress with one hand, testing its softness. Not bad, he thought, so he sat and yanked off his boots.

He was so wrapped up in his task that he didn't hear her approach until she was in front of him. He noticed her bare feet first, poking from beneath a white gown. His head came up with a start, his mouth open. Her hair was down in a soft braid, and the only thing compromising her gentle beauty was the bruises from the other day.

She opened her mouth several times until she managed to squeeze out, "Are you sleeping over here?"

Jess carefully stood, which was difficult to do since she was standing so close. "I, um…"

Her face was so white, it might have been made from alabaster. "I'm not naïve, Jess. We're…we're to…" Her words failed, so she tried to show him what she meant by lifting shaking hands to her neck. Trembling fingers started to fumble with tiny buttons, managing to undo several until the perfectly smooth and flawless skin of her upper chest began to show.

Jess felt his eyes bulge and his hormones kick in. He grabbed her tightly and kissed her face, lips, and neck. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the room to the larger bed. Laying her down, he went to remove his shirt when he noticed something. Love was not in her eyes, but something bordering on determination extremely tainted with fear.

He froze, shock driving away any passions that might have laid hold of him. Gently he reached out one hand, brushing against her knee, and felt her flinch in a barely controlled spasm. Smiling soothingly, he brushed his hand down her shin, taking the gown's hem with it until it covered her legs. He finished by tenderly buttoning the top until it covered her modesty.

He finally met her eyes, and they were shining with unshed tears. "Why?" she whispered.

"You deserve more." He simply said. "Don't come to me unless you want to. I won't come to you unless you ask me to."

With that, he turned about, blew out the lamp, and went to his side of the room. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her muffled sobs.


	10. Domestic Life

**Back again, friends! Sorry for the delay. Yes, Jess surely has gotten himself into a pickle this time around! To whoever said, "Who wouldn't want to be married to Jess?" I perfectly agree! Who couldn't love that dashing devil? Anyway, our hot-blooded hero is hardly out of the woods - literally. Maybe Slim will help soon? Stay tuned to see!**

 **On with the story!**

Chapter 10: Domestic Life

Life on Turner Farm was not that much different than that of the Sherman Ranch. The rooster on the peak of henhouse sounded the same; the milk cow lowing to be milked had a matching sorrowful tone. The main difference was that Jess awoke to the sound of a woman brushing out her hair, a soft, pleasant rustling that Jess was not sure he had ever heard the like.

Lucy caught him watching her. She took a shaky breath. "Jess, I…I'm sorry." Her eyes were moist.

Jess sat up slowly. "You did what you had to do."

"No, no! I tried to think of any way to get you out of this mess, but I couldn't think of any other way. Pa said this was the only way he'd let you off." She crossed her arms over her chest before nervously putting them down again. "You must think I'm a big coward and a liar."

Jess pointed a finger with intensity. "Now that is something I'd never say. You got me out of a jam, and I guess I'm grateful in a way."

"In a way enough to want to be married to me?"

Lucy didn't spare him another glance as she rushed out the door. Jess guessed that she was on her way to care for Jeremy. Jess pulled on his clothes and boots, ran a hand through his curly hair and smashed his hat down over it. Then he wandered outside. The sun was just beginning to peek over the tops of the high hills to the east. The air held a bit of a nip to it, as was common in the springtime. Jess stepped back and grabbed his jacket that hung just inside the door. Shrugging it on, he walked over to the barn. It was empty, save the animals. Traveler whickered at his approach, and Wayne's sandy-mane sorrel stamped his feet in greeting. He was a flashy horse who looked like he could run all day and most of the night if asked. While Jess loved his sturdy and dependable bay, he did like to look at good horseflesh when he had the chance.

The horse was definitely the type for a man on the move. It was very common for well-known gunfighters to buy high-quality animals, as they never knew when they would need to get away fast. Wayne surely fit the description of a gunfighter, although Jess had never heard of him before. However, that didn't really mean anything.

A sound behind him caused him to twirl on his heels, his hand poised. However, it was in vain as his gun had not been returned to him. His leg felt achingly empty without the weight pressing against it.

It was just Mr. Turner, inviting Jess up for breakfast. The farmer looked grumpy, but this was nothing new. Jess glumly followed the large man up to the main house, dreading the scene before him.

In actuality, it wasn't all that bad. Lucy had made a typical breakfast of eggs, ham, and toasted bread. She never sat and ate with the men, but instead made sure they all had full coffee cups. In between moments of serving the men, she was feeding eggs to little Jeremy. The boy was sitting in a chair with ropes strung around the arms, so as not to fall out. He cheerfully accepted each bite with enthusiasm, invoking some jealousy from Jess. He ate in silence with Wayne and Mr. Turner, who both kept their eyes on their plates.

Lucy hovered near Jess, but he could tell that her concerned gaze fell on Wayne more often than anyone else.

Jess worked in a nearby hay field all day, cutting the grass with a scythe. It was back-breaking work, and he felt guilty that he was not at home helping Slim with the same job. He paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. What was he going to do? He was basically a slave, sentenced to work by an unfair justice system. He wondered what would happen if he were to report the goings-on to another judicial district. Would they help him escape this unjust sentencing? It shouldn't be legal to sentence a man to stay in the same place forever. Did this beat the alternative of jail? Only time would tell, he supposed.

And then, there was the matter of being _married_. Jess hardly wanted to go there mentally, but his thoughts always seemed to drift that way. Since he and Lucy had never been involved romantically, it wasn't as natural as everyone around them tended to think it would be. Jess was a man, but he was also a gentleman — at least, he liked to think. Lucy didn't hardly know him from Adam, and yet here she was, supposedly in love with him. To everyone but Jess and herself, this story made perfect sense. You've already sampled the milk, so why not buy the cow once and for all? But since Jess had not actually "sampled the milk," and had no intention of doing so unless some feelings started to grow of a romantic nature, this whole marriage thing was a tragic farce.

Suppose romantic feelings did start to generate…then he could see himself taking the role of husband and father. However, the scene at breakfast made Jess realize how long it might take for Lucy to accept the situation as permanent – and not only Lucy was involved in this. After Wayne's outright confession of love for Lucy, Jess felt like an interloper in this whole affair. Even after last night's near fall into passion, Jess knew that Lucy was just trying to make a go of it.

He went back to work, trying to get his arms to adjust to swinging the scythe without feeling as though they might fall off. A startled flapping of wings off to his left caught his attention. He peered out of the corner of his eye to the trees lining the field. He saw nothing – no wait, there was a flash of color. Somebody spying on him? He wished for the umpteenth time that his revolver was at his side, but Wayne still held on to it.

He subtly turned and began cutting toward the trees. Coincidently, this was also where he had hung his canteen and lunch pail. He leaned against the long tool handle and took a sip. Carefully placing the cap back on the water vessel and hanging it back on the branch, he quietly called, "I know you're there. What do you want?"

To his surprise, Fred Ames stepped out of the trees. Jess felt his heart quicken slightly at the sight of the cowboy. The man had all the makings of a bully, waiting to prey on the weak, and Jess felt pretty weak without his iron.

"Hello there, pretty boy," the weasel-like man greeted.

"Hello yourself," Jess growled.

"Now, now, no need to get nasty." Fred stroked the butt of his gun. "Wouldn't want to get me riled, now would you? You with that hay knife, I could just be defendin' myself when I tell the sheriff why had to shoot you dead." He looked off to the cloudy sky. "Yep, that's a mighty tempting thought, that is."

"Hm," Jess grunted. "Well, while you're stewin' it over, I reckon I'll get back to work."

"Had a tiring night last night, newlywed? That girl's got spunk, let me tell ya. I bet she gave you everything a man could ask for."

Jess' hands tightened on the handle of the scythe until his knuckles turned white. "I whipped you once, Ames. Don't make me do it again."

"You forgettin' my advantage, saddle tramp?"

Jess scoffed. "Have you been savin' up nicknames? Not brave enough to call a man names unless you're the only one packin'? Well, I've got some names myself, yellow-back. Yeah, like woman-beater, cowardly whelp, judge's backend kisser, just to start."

Fred swore loudly and tried to pull his pistol. His gun may have armed him in firepower, but Jess had reflexes on his side. Jess slammed the end of the scythe handle across Fred's wrist, paralyzing the limb. It was an easy push from there to sprawl the blackguard onto his back. The scythe's razor-sharp blade was at the man's throat in moments.

Jess could barely speak, as his pent up rage was fighting for satisfaction. "I'm this close, this close! You owe _your life_ to me. Your miserable, stickin', slinkin' life was spared by me! Don't you forget it."

He jerked the scythe away, but not without nicking the man's chin on the way by. Blood was drawn, a literal metaphor that was not lost by both parties.

Fred pressed his hand to his chin as he scrambled to his feet. "This ain't over, Harper. Far from it. You may have gotten the jump on me twice, but there won't be a third. Watch your back…and that pretty little wife of yours. Because you know I'll be keepin' a close eye on her, like I always been."

Jess watched the man gallop away. He turned to get back to work, only to see Wayne Grant sitting astride his sorrel not 20 feet away, partially hidden by the thicket. They gazed at one another long and hard before the deputy slowly turned his horse to disappear into the brush.

Lucy felt as though the days were dragging by so slowly, she could hardly stand it. After several mostly sleepless nights in the old house, her eyes itched and yawns made her jaw ache. She spent most of her evenings quietly crying. First she cried because of Jess' rejection, but then she realized that was not the root of her sorrows. It was that it had all come to this. At breakfast that first morning, she couldn't bear to see Wayne sitting there, so serious and tense. The deputy had returned to town later that day with the assumption that Jess would stay put.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the object of her thoughts deliberately rode up to the hitching post close to the porch where she was sitting.

"Hello, Lucy," the deputy greeted after tying up his horse. He mounted the steps while removing his hat.

"Wayne." She didn't know what else to say.

He swallowed hard and looked around. "Is Jess around?"

"He went out to work a while ago."

Wayne looked relieved and leaned against the railing on the porch. "How has your day been?"

Lucy stopped folding the laundry on her lap to give the man all of her attention. "Not to sound rude, but how do you think?"

His face turned toward the floor. "Sorry, I just…I wish there was something I could do."

"Well, there's nothing to be done about it now. Wayne…you knew, you _know_ how I feel about you. I always thought you felt the same. But it's been ages since I started to think this. Now it's too late. I suppose we should say goodbye to one another. It hurts too much to have you around."

Wayne was on his knees in front of her before she could blink. "Lucy, shucks, I've wanted to marry you since the day I met you! What am I supposed to do? I can't just forget about you."

Lucy blinked back fresh tears, though she previously thought that they had surely been used up by now. "You'll have to try, Wayne. We'll have to try, the both of us. I had to do what I did, for Jeremy's sake, but also for Jess'. You couldn't have expected me to just stand by while he was sent away for something he didn't do?"

"No," he admitted before seating himself on the bench beside her. "You never…never did like Jess…that way?"

"For the last time, no! He simply worked here for a spell before you came. He was a nice man, but I didn't even talk to him much. I think he was too preoccupied with whatever he was trying to raise money to do."

Wayne nodded. "He told me what happened."

"He is a good man, Wayne. Please believe that. Our nights…well, it's not proper to speak of such things, but let me just say that there are two beds being used in that house."

They sat in silence for a spell, wondering, thinking. They were unsure how long a time was spent, but the shadows had lengthened when they heard a shuffle on the path. They reflexively looked up, startled, to see Jess wearily trek toward the pair on the porch. He held the scythe over one shoulder and his canteen and lunch pail loosely in the other hand, his shirt sweat-stained and his face pinched with fatigue.

Lucy felt guilt take hold once again. She knew that her father had put Jess on that task because the elder man thought that job to be the worst on the farm.

Jess leaned the long tool against the water trough before shucking out of his shirt. Lucy felt embarrassed to note the lean, tan torso of the man she now called husband. He splashed water over his face, neck, and chest, and she smiled a touch to hear his sighs of relief. He slowly stood, his hand to his back, and Lucy noted for the first time how many scars marked his youthful body. She wondered how much life he had experienced before coming here, and shuddered to think of what he had been through. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could see at least one mark of a bullet, maybe more.

He turned toward them and seemed to notice that he had an audience only at that moment. He calmly dried himself with his dirty shirt, looking unfazed by the two's scrutiny. He casually put the crumpled shirt back on his body before sauntering off to the old cabin.

"Well, good seeing you, Lucy." Wayne left the porch abruptly.

"What?"

The tall lawman quickly followed Jess into the cabin. Lucy shook her head and went inside to see about supper.


	11. Unlikely Help

Chapter 11: Unlikely Help

Wayne shut the door behind him with a quiet thud but nearly fell into it as the young cowboy leapt at him.

"Hey, whoa, Jess. It's just me!"

"Yeah, don't you think I know that?" Jess' face was a dark shade of angry red, nearly causing Wayne to take a step back.

"What's the deal?"

"Whattya mean, 'what's the deal?'" Jess growled. "You saw me almost get killed the other day and didn't raise a finger to help. And you're supposed to be lookin' out for me. Maybe you want Fred to knock me off, so you can have Lucy—"

"Shut up, Jess! I'm trying to help you."

Jess paced the room, reminding Wayne of a lion he had once seen at a traveling circus. "Just how're you plannin' on doin' that? Did you know that old man Turner won't even let me send a telegraph to my friends in Laramie? They're gonna come lookin' for me, or think I'm dead or somethin'." He grabbed at the collar of his shirt, yanking it aside. "See this? Somebody took a shot at me."

Wayne took a step closer and saw a raw strip on the side of Jess' neck, like somebody had taken a finger dipped in red paint and swiped across the muscles there.

"You see who did it?"

Jess jerked the shirt the rest of the way off and cast it onto his bunk. He pulled out another shirt, probably his only other, as it too was dirty. "'Course not, but you don't need many guesses as to who tried it." He looked over his shoulder at Wayne. "You still got my gun?"

Wayne chose to ignore the question. "Listen, Jess, I didn't come all this way out here to talk to Lucy. I came out to talk to you."

Jess glared at Wayne. "Oh, yeah? What would you have to say that I'm interested in hearin'?"

"Two things, actually. Good news and bad. I ran into Mr. Turner today in town by the telegraph office. He just heard from his son: he's getting out of the army and should be on his way back here."

"I didn't even know he had a son."

"Well, he was a bit of a wild one, but he's been in the army since the War. He's finally calling it quits and wants to come home to quiet life."

"Quiet? Ha. What's this gotta do with me?"

"With his son around, Mr. Turner won't need you so bad, and can see things in a different light."

"Meanin' he'll just be willin' to give up his personal slave? Not likely."

"That's where the next bit comes in. Jess, things are real bad in town. There's somebody coming from the attorney general's office in Washington D.C."

"So?"

"So, news has been spreading that there has been some shady dealings going on around here in Wyoming. Since Judge Sanders is the judge in Cheyenne, the capitol of this territory, he's the first they're going to investigate."

This peaked Jess' attention, but he still looked confused. "What does this have to do with me?"

"You're one of his most recent cases, and let me admit, one of his most…odd. He'll have a hard time explaining this one to the higher-ups. I think he's finally realizing that he's jumped in over his head." Wayne scrubbed his rough stubble on his chin – he'd scarcely had time to sleep, let alone shave. "Jess, the judge sent me out here to bring you back in. He wants to send you to the fed pen to get you out of the way."

Jess leapt behind the table, hands scrabbling for a weapon. He seized a piece of firewood and held it before him like a club. "Over my dead body, he will."

"Now Jess, calm down."

"CALM DOWN? Are you crazy? Not likely! You ain't gonna take me back!"

"I'M NOT PLANNING ON IT! Now put down that chunk of pine and listen!"

Jess lowered his improvised weapon a notch. "Go ahead, but this stays put."

"Whatever, just hear me out. I know you never did any of those things the judge tried to pin on you. I know it was a scheme to get you away from his niece, and I know that Mr. Turner twisted Lucy's arm into admitting that you're her son's father. Because of this whole mess, plus other questionable dealings in the past, I've decided to quit the judge. I'm going to help you get out of here."

The change over the young cowboy was remarkable as he slowly laid the wood on the table. "You're goin' to help me? How?"

"I'll help you run, plain and simple."

"Wayne, that's mighty nice of you, but why do you want help me run? You'll end up in jail with me if I get caught. And what about Lucy? You just gonna leave her here in the same mess she was before?"

"You'll take her with you."

"Really." Jess' voice held sarcasm. "You think a woman and baby would help matters? She could go to jail too, you know."

"Jess, I heard everything that went between you and that Ames snake the other day. He's watching her. He's wanted her ever since he's known her. He's not hardly right in the head, he's so hung up on her. With you out of the picture, he'll see that as his chance to finally get her…maybe kill her… I can't take that chance, and I know you don't want to either. I hid a horse for Lucy and Jeremy out in the woods. Take her down the old trappers' trail that runs near the creek. It crosses the main road about seven miles out. Go on down to your friends' place. She'll be safer there."

Jess shook his head with a half-smile. "You're somethin' close to crazy, Wayne. I would ask you why you're doin' this for me, but we already know the answer to that."

Wayne returned the rue expression. "You aren't as dumb as you let on, Harper."

"Just one question," Jess put forth. "What's gonna happen to you? How you goin' to explain to the judge that you can't find me, conveniently hours after he sent you out here?"

"I couldn't find you anywhere, maybe? I spent time trying to track you down?"

"Hm, maybe. What're you goin' to be doin' while we're runnin' around in the woods?"

"Watching, waiting. Perhaps baiting the government official into looking into your case first."

Jess still looked doubtful. "What do we hope to gain from all this? What if the government man just decides to send me to prison for hurtin' Lucy?"

"Lucy can say she was under duress when she wrote that confession. After all, she was. Hopefully she'll finally admit who really did it so justice can be served properly."

"You know an awful lot about this stuff, Wayne."

The man shrugged with a quiet smile. "What can I say? I grew up with this."

Finally the dark-haired Texan gave in. "Okay, fine. I guess I'll trust you. Don't see as how I've got any choice. Let's go talk to Lucy."


	12. Quite a Shock

Chapter 12: Quite a Shock

Back on the Sherman Relay Station, life was rolling along as usual…or was it? Slim had to wonder. It was one of the few times that Jess had been gone for a real amount of time since he had agreed to stay on. Slim tried to remember what life was like just a short time ago before he had ever heard of Jess Harper, and found that it was a difficult feat to accomplish. Andy seemed more settled than before, Jonesy seemed a little less grouchy (if possible), and Slim himself, well, he felt as though a void had been filled he hadn't known existed. Jess was his friend. It was Slim and Jess, Jess and Slim, and it seemed as though that was the way it would always be.

The situation with Malinda nearly ended their days as bachelor buddies, but it seemed as though the threat passed without any real damage. No, Jess wouldn't be getting married any time soon, not after that whole fiasco.

"Slim," his little brother called.

"Over here, Andy," Slim answered from the corral fence he was repairing.

"You think Jess'll be gettin' home soon?"

"I hope so. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The boy swung on the gate with a melancholy air. "Seems like forever!"

"Don't worry," Slim comforted while ruffling Andy's hair. "He'll be back any time and then things'll get back to normal."

Slim woke from a dead sleep in the middle of the night. He yawned and rolled over, wondering why he had come awake. It was still pitch black outside, not even close to dawn. However, his eyes snapped open when he heard what had initially stirred him in the first place. There was rustling coming from the kitchen.

Was it just Jonesy just up to get a touch of liniment? Or Andy to get a drink? He'd better check to be sure. Reaching under his bunk, his fingers found the cool metal of his revolver. Pulling it out of its holster, he carefully placed his bare feet on the floor. He peeped through his door, his eyes well-adjusted to the darkness. There was definitely someone out there, as he could see a shadow moving in front of the moonlight through the kitchen window.

Slim paused, his heart in this throat. He could hear Jonesy's soft snores, and the silhouette was too tall to be Andy's young form. He gathered his courage and crept across the large area that made up the living room and dining room. His pulse hammered in his ears, but he could make out a low whisper coming from the shadow.

"We have what we need. Let's go."

Slim decided enough was enough. "Hold it," he stated in a firm voice, cocking his pistol to back his words.

A sharp, high-pitched cry pierced the heavy and quiet atmosphere, and the second shadow dropped to the floor. Then, to Slim's shock, he heard an answering cry — or really more a wail. Was that a…baby?

"Dad _gum_ it, Slim!"

At this point, Jonesy stumbled out of his room, candle in hand. Slim's mouth fell open at the vision the light revealed. Jess was standing in the kitchen, covered in dust and grime. He was looming protectively over a puddle of cloth on the floor, from which came the noises of a sobbing baby.

"You weren't s'posed to see us," Jess was complaining.

Slim carefully disengaged his pistol. "Say what now?"

"I was just gonna come in here and get some milk for the baby, and somethin' for Lucy to eat. We haven't eaten since noon."

"Lucy? Who's Lucy?"

"That'd be me," came a woman's voice. From the dusty floor rose a woman, wrapped in blankets, revealing the crying baby as well. "My name's Lucy Turner — I mean, Lucy Har—"

"We're sure sorry to wake you folks up," Jess cut in. "I was just gonna sneak in for somethin' to eat, but then Lucy didn't like stayin' out in the dark all alone, so she had to come too…"

Finally Jonesy cut in. "Jess, just stop your yammering. Nobody is understanding a word you're saying anyhow. Let's get that poor child something to eat."

Clothes were quickly yanked on, the fire stoked, and a lamp lit. Slim was shocked to take in his pard and the lady's appearances. Their clothes were muddy and it looked as though they been out in the rain storm that had passed through that morning. "Erm…," Slim tried to say something, but didn't know where to start. Andy stumbled out at this point, his hair standing in all directions. His eyes were as big as saucers, but he said nothing.

Jonesy set out a midnight snack, complete with reheated mulligan from supper and warmed milk for the younger members of the group. Jess chowed down on Jonesy's cooking, though whether it was because he missed it or it was just to keep his mouth full to keep from answering questions, Slim didn't know. He looked across at the young lady, who was eating at a more polite pace, but she also remained silent. When the child finished his milk, he began squirming in her arms, making it difficult for her to eat. Jess wordlessly took the babe onto his own lap as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Silence was the theme of the room, it appeared. Andy was sitting with his hand wrapped around a mug of the warm milk, his eyes fixed on Jess. Jonesy stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his ever-present derby (Slim sometimes wondered if the man slept in the tattered old thing) tipped forward as he rubbed the back of his head in his usual expression of confusion. The baby was gumming at a biscuit happily, ignoring everyone. Slim realized with a start how homey Jess looked with a babe on his knee, especially since the baby in question had some features not unlike Jess' own. Curly black fuzz covered the baby's head, and clear blue eyes lit up in wonder as they took in the world around him.

"So, uh…," Slim finally said, "What took you so long to get back, pard?"

Jess swallowed hard and shot a look toward the young lady. She blushed and gave him a helpless glance back.

"What is going on?" Slim demanded.

"Now hold on, Slim," Jonesy's calm drawl floated over to the table. "Just hang on one second. You haven't even introduced us to your friends, Jess."

Jess took a deep breath. "Well, this is Lucy and Jeremy," as though that explained everything.

"Nice you meet you," Slim greeted, with probably not the most polite tone.

"Have some manners, Slim," Jess growled.

Jeremy squirmed at Jess' unpleasant tenor, and Lucy took the child from Jess. Her own face looked somewhere between a pale white and shade of green. "I think I'd like to clean up a little and lay Jeremy down. We're exhausted."

All the men stood as she rose from her chair. "Through that door, miss," Jonesy kindly pointed.

"I can show ya!" Andy said. He was clearly moonstruck by the young lady. They went off together into Jonesy and Andy's room.

Slim waited until the door was closed before he pounced. Jess defensively backed up toward the fireplace, his face bordering on the guarded expression he used to wear perpetually – before he began to trust Slim. Slim recognized the signs and knew that he must tread carefully or risk getting struck by the rattlesnake that was his best friend.

"Now, Jess, we've got a right to be curious."

Jess rolled his eyes in response, which nearly made Slim want to reach out and strangle the man.

"She's just a friend," Jess attempted to say with honesty.

Slim saw right through the façade. "And Jonesy's my rich old uncle."

"Leave me outta this," Jonesy said from the side as he cleared the table.

"Come on, Jess, after all we've been through?" Slim pleaded.

Jess stared at the floor, a muscle in his cheek quivering. "Alright, alright. She's my, my…" his last words were lost in a mumble.

"What did you say?"

The old fire lit in Jess' eyes as he flung his head back. "She's my wife."

A plate shattered in the kitchen.

 **Thanks for reading this far! I'll leave you with this mini drama cliffy. Those are the best! ;) I'll try to update more tomorrow.**


	13. Welcome to the Family

**Sorry for the mini cliffy... I just couldn't resist. How will Slim take the news? Read on! :)**

Chapter 13: Welcome to the Family

Jess watched the emotions play out across Slim's face one at a time, until finally the expressive baby-blues showed disbelief.

"Your…your _wife?_ "

Jonesy sauntered up, only his hands fretting at his apron string showing his shock. "Well, I'll be. Hiding that little lady from us all this time? And the little one too? Well, shucks boy."

"No, no, it ain't like that…"

"Then what is it like, exactly?" Slim's face was turning a dangerous shade of red-purple. "You mean to tell me that you've had a wife, all this time, and you never thought fit to tell us? And…and… _you were_ _courting other women?!_ "

Slim may not be a temperamental man, but he did have a backbone that was forged from the steel of honor. Jess quickly tried to make clear.

"Please, let me explain."

Slim's large hands flexed as he cut off his friend. "There is nothing to explain. I can't believe that I could be friends with…with someone like you."

Jess gave up and inserted his side with gritted teeth. "Slim. She became my wife only a few days ago – _by force_."

"As though that's supposed to make it better? What'd you do, Jess, finally get hunted down by her father with a shotgun?"

Jess rubbed the back of his neck. He knew this wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't reckoned on Slim jumping down his throat this way. "Please, let me start from the beginning. If you still don't believe me, you can throw all'a us out on the road."

He could see the sensitive side of Slim peeking through at the mention of putting a woman and child out to be destitute. The rancher waved a hand as indication to proceed.

"So what's the story?" Slim crossed his long arms. "You say there is one, and it must be a doozy. It always is with you."

Jess glared back with one of his most menacing glares. "This is a true one." He relayed the story of his time in Cheyenne up to the point of Wayne's visit to the Turner farm.

Slim and Jonesy looked flabbergasted. "That's crazy, Jess," Jonesy breathed.

"Crazy but true, every word."

Slim scratched his stubbly face. "True, indeed. It's too crazy to not be. How did you come to be such a dirty mess?"

Jess shook his head with a weary smile. "That's where everything went south."

 _The day of Wayne's visit…_

"...and that's why we have to get outta here, Lucy."

Lucy stood and gamely said, "I'll throw some things together. We have to hurry before Pa gets home."

Both men watched with open mouths as the woman hurried inside. "You woulda thought that we had told her we were all going on a picnic," Wayne commented.

"In a way we are," Jess replied with sarcasm. "What lady wouldn't want to ride 50 miles through the woods carrying her baby with a man she hardly knows? Sounds like fun to me."

Wayne just shook his head. "I'll snoop around, make sure nobody's hiding in the bushes. Fred wasn't in the saloon when I left town."

Jess nodded uneasily. "You gonna give me my gun back?"

Wayne winked. "It's been under your saddle blanket all this time." The man sauntered off before Jess could protest. That man was...gutsy. Not like Jess, not at all...maybe.

Only twenty minutes later, they were ready to leave. Lucy had fashioned a sort of bundle to tie Jeremy close to her. She herself was wearing some of her brother's old overalls. Together, she and Jess snuck into the woods where Wayne had left the horse, Jess leading Traveler behind him. Wayne followed at a distance, wiping their tracks from the dusty yard.

The deputy watched the fugitives quietly disappear into the pines, saying a silent wish of good journey.

Jess threw a glance back over his shoulder, watching the lawman sweep the ground with a branch, regret in his heart. He knew that he was leaving the deputy in a horrible fix, and felt even worse for the fact that he was riding away with the woman Wayne loved. "It's only for a while," he comforted, as he noticed Lucy's face also held the same look of sadness.

"Right," she bravely agreed, though she didn't look as though she believed. She shifted Jeremy in the pack on her back. They found the horse, a sturdy grey, and Jess slung Lucy's bundles of belongings behind her saddle. He fixed another pack of blankets and an oilcloth to the back of his own saddle.

This completed, he turned once more to look down at the farm. He felt fear leap in his throat as he heard horses loping. A group of men came swinging in close, dust swirling around the deputy's tall form. The air was clear, so Jess and Lucy could hear their conversation though they were a safe distance away.

"Wayne, where's Harper?" Jess recognized the gruff voice of the sheriff.

"Can't find him."

"That's it? You can't find him?"

"Checked everywhere. Can't tell if any horses are missing. I don't know the Turners' stock," Wayne lied.

"What about Lucy, did you ask her?"

"She must be in town working at Meg's," the deputy falsely assumed. "What's the deal? Thought I couldn't bring him in on my own? The man is unarmed."

"The judge just wanted to make sure something like _this_ wouldn't happen. Fan out, men. He can't have gotten far."

Jess quickly helped Lucy into the saddle. "That's our queue. Let's be gettin' on, pronto!"

The horses' hooves made no sound on the carpet of pine needles as they took off at a quick trot to the west. Jess worried; worried about Jeremy, bouncing like a sack of spuds; worried that Lucy wouldn't be able to keep up; worried that the sheriff would somehow find out that Wayne was lying and arrest him.

Time passed slowly as Jess guided them through the trees. He was too anxious to look back, but the absence of shouts or shots comforted his stretched nerves. Lucy gamely kept up, her face tight with determination, and Jeremy miraculously seemed to be enjoying himself. He was tough little youngster.

They neared the Laramie-Cheyenne stretch of the road. Jess drew the small party to a halt, waiting and watching silently at the edge of the trees lining the pathway.

"Why have we stopped?" Lucy whispered.

Jess raised a hand to silence her. "Just a gut feelin'. The forest is quiet."

They listened in silence for a spell, then they heard the murmuring of low voices, accompanied by the clip-clop of hooves. Four riders slowly meandered down the road, talking amongst themselves. Jess bit back a curse as he recognized one of them — Fred Ames.

"What're you gonna get with your share?" asked one of the men riding alongside the devious cowboy.

Fred discarded the question with a scoff. "I'll get my own reward, and it ain't got nothin' to do with money, boys."

A couple others guffawed in an abrasive way. "That little Turner gal is sure sweet as candy, huh?"

Fred corrected, "Harper now, at least that's what the paper says. Don't make no difference to me what she calls herself."

A small glance toward Lucy showed her face to be white and her teeth firmly dug into her lower lip.

They waited until the troupe was out of sight. "Just what I was afraid of," Jess muttered. "A bounty out already." He pulled around to face Lucy. "I guess this means we ought to stay off the main road. They know I'm from Laramie, so they'll be watchin' this road plenty."

Lucy just nodded and turned her horse to follow. Jeremy babbled a bit but quieted when Lucy managed to pull him around in front of her on the saddle. He was big enough to sit up on the swells, and patted his pudgy hands on the horn like a drum. The three continued on in the lengthening shadows.

The morning turned out to not look much like morning at all. Clouds were brewing, making it seem like early dawn though it was really mid-morning. Jess looked up, discouraged by the sight. With a moment of foresight, he grabbed the oilskin and wrapped it around Lucy and Jeremy. The pair were clearly exhausted, sagging in the saddle with fatigue. The night had been long and rough. Jess knew that Lucy was up most of the hours to keep watch on Jeremy so he didn't make much noise. Now deep and dark shadows marked the skin under her eyes, standing out sharply on her naturally pale skin.

"Much further?" she asked, though there was no accusation in the tone, just simple resignation.

Jess glanced around. "Hard to tell in these woods. One tree looks like another…" He trailed off when he saw her sigh and wilt a touch more. "On second thought, that big boulder looks familiar. I reckon we're only 15 miles out now."

"You sure your friend will be alright with all this?"

"He'll help us out if he has to. Better for him if he don't know we're there. Wouldn't want him to have to cover for us if he don't have to. I figure we can stay in the line shack and sneak in at night for supplies. "

"He's probably worried about you...just like Pa," she quietly murmured.

Jess silently agreed with her observation as the rain started to fall in sheets, the pines doing little to shelter them.

"So, we made it here. I figured we couldn't make it on without some food and maybe some dry blankets. Ours are still damp. Plus, Lucy and Jeremy are plain bushed. They put up with more than I could've imagined. I don't know how they did it, but they did."

He waited in silence after his last sentence, wondering what Slim would ask and how long it would take to answer all the questions. He was so _tired_.

However, Slim had only one. "What can I do to help?"

Jess could have burst out bawling, if only that wasn't such a terribly unmanly thing to do. He settled with a trademark Harper grin.


	14. Hideaway

Chapter 14: Hideaway

The next morning, Slim smiled as he watched as Jess told Lucy what had transpired between the two men last night. Immense relief filled her pretty face as she beamed at Jess and Slim.

"Slim's okay, Lucy, really he is," Jess was reassuring. "He's gonna help us. That's just the kind of pard he is."

Slim didn't have time to react as the lady rushed across and grabbed him in a tight hug. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Sherman." She pulled back, grinning broadly. "Jess told me you were the most brave and kindest man in the world, but for a moment there, I was afraid…"

Slim felt a little bashful at the relay of Jess' admiring words. "Well, ma'am, I know I seemed a little ornery, but it was on your account. Our Jess here can be a little bit of a tomcat."

"Slim!" Jess protested.

"We just had to get away from there," Lucy explained. "Jess and I were afraid for our safety, and for Jeremy's."

"Yeah, Jess told me about this Ames character. He won't find you here. Stay as long as you need. We can hide you out at the line shack. It's not much, but it's warm and dry. Better wait for nightfall to head out there, though."

"Oh, thank you!" She said for what had to be the twentieth time.

Later on, Lucy went in to rest with her son, and Slim and Jess went out to feed the stock. They pitched hay to the horses together, in silent companionship.

Finally, Slim said, "You know, I was just beginning to think I missed you…but then you came back with trouble on your tail, as usual."

Jess chucked a dirt clod at Slim, snickering as it exploded into a poof of dust across the back of the tall man's white shirt. Slim ignored the childish act…for now.

"I really don't look for this kind of thing, you know," Jess whined, disappointed at Slim's lack of response. "Trouble just seems to find me."

"You don't need to say that twice."

"Seriously, though, this hopefully is a temporary thing. Wayne Grant, the deputy back there, is workin' hard behind the judge's back, tryin' to get the government man to throw my case out. Or at least change the sentence, anyhow."

"And then what?"

Jess swallowed, his fingers weaving through a horse's mane as the animal nibbled the feed. "Well, I reckon Lucy'll want the marriage annulled."

Slim considered Jess' sorrowful countenance. "Is this something you want, too?"

"Shucks if I know," Jess whispered. "Shucks if I know."

Jess and Lucy stayed out at the line shack, she inside the small structure and Jess in the slightly larger lean-to with the horses. The shack had not been used since last fall's round-up and was in rough shape. Jess took the opportunity to fix up the place, as the winter had been long and northern winds hard on the cabin. Slim would stop by with any news he felt they should know; Fred and pals had ridden into Laramie and seemed to be hanging about indefinitely, and Jerry the Laramie sheriff continued to get frustrated telegrams from Sheriff Burns of Cheyenne. He gleefully replied each one with another denial of any new information. It seemed as though word travelled fast in the West, and Jerry didn't like the judge based on the few interactions experienced from when the judge had come to Laramie to conduct trials.

The next few days passed slowly, and the line shack started to look more lived in, rather than an abandoned prospector's home. Lucy tidied up inside, giving the distinct feminine touch no man could imitate. Jess unconsciously relished the domestic feel of everything, though it was unfair of him to do so.

Jess brooded over his fanciful imaginings. It wasn't fair of him to even think of staying married to Lucy if he didn't have to. When this all first started, all he could think about was getting out of the situation. But now that things had cooled off, so to speak, he found that the domestic life was rather attractive after all. And speaking of attractive…he couldn't help himself when it came to Lucy. She was like a spring-time blossom, full of life and as gentle as a cool breeze.

His feelings were crushed when Lucy received a secretly posted letter from Wayne, care of Sherman Ranch that Slim delivered one morning. He could see the joy on her face and knew then and there that Lucy was not his wife emotionally, and never would be.

Lucy relayed the information from the letter. Apparently, things were not looking good in Cheyenne. The judge was working furiously to sweep Jess' case under the rug. Wayne had met with Mr. Worthington, the government man, several times and had been given amnesty in exchange for testifying as needed. However, a large problem loomed.

"The documentation on our case is missing," Lucy gasped.

"Missing? Of course it is," Jess bit out.

Slim leaned in closer. "Does he say anything about hunting for you two?"

"Just that the judge has sent Wayne out several times to try to hunt us down. He's wired the Laramie sheriff several times, but since we've kept hidden the sheriff here has nothing to say."

"That's what Jerry keeps telling me," Slim said. "I think he knows you two are around here somewhere, but he doesn't care much. Besides, the country out here is out of his jurisdiction. He won't come sniffing around."

Jess asked, "Any other news from town?"

"Just that this Ames feller is getting restless. He's gotten more friends at the saloon, saddle tramps and the like. The problem is that these boys know the area. I'm afraid it's just a matter of time before one of them remembers that we have a line shack out in the woods."

"What can we do though?" Jess asked. "It's not like we have anywhere else to go, not with a baby and all."

Lucy hung her head. "I've caused you so much trouble, both of you."

Jess gently grasped her arm. "You're not trouble, and don't you ever think it. Your only fault is bein' too kind for your own good."

"I just wish this would all end."

Jess frowned at Slim. "I have a feelin' it will all bust loose, and soon."

 _Back In Cheyenne_

Wayne strode down the boardwalk, frustration pounding into every step. Mr. Worthington seemed to be working _so slowly_. He stated that nothing could be done more quickly, as he had to review each case to search for unethical information.

 _"Why can't we just go into his house and tear the place apart?" Wayne had asked._

 _"Mr. Grant, you as an officer of the law should surely know the answer to that question. There must be a search warrant, and who do you think signs those? He won't sign one for his own home."_

Wayne ground his teeth, his jaw muscles popping. The judge had willingly provided files and records of cases, but Wayne knew some were missing. He was sure of that. The judge was one of those old-fashioned "hanging judges." However, he was in the wrong era for that type of justice anymore. The cases that had the government most concerned was when the judge had dismissed charges against a group of vigilantes lynching a man suspected of robbing a stage and shooting the guard. The guard happened to be from the area, instigating the locals to wrath at the slow judicial process. The guard also happened to be a childhood friend of the judge… people became suspicious, but nobody said anything. After ludicrous trial convicting Jess to a sentence of marriage, an anonymous tip was sent to Washington. Well, anonymous to everyone but the man who sent it… a certain deputy with a nose for the law.

Sitting down on the bench in front of the jail, he began his daily routine of watching the street. It was an odd ritual that Sheriff Burns had put in place, claiming that the people of Cheyenne needed to know that the law of Cheyenne was always watching out for them. "Yeah, like anyone with a brain would pull a stunt in front of the jail," Wayne muttered to himself. He was ready to be free of this town and the people in charge of it.

Movement to his left caught his attention. He was surprised to see Ms. Malinda Sanders walking toward him, an intense expression on her face. She stood in front of him. "Mind if I sit, Mr. Grant?"

"Sure, Miss Sanders. Something on your mind?"

She cut right to the chase. "Have you heard anything about Jess and Lucy? I heard that they ran, that Jess might have even kidnapped her or something."

"Surely not, Miss Sanders. They're married. A husband can take his wife with him if he pleases." He hoped he sounded convincing.

"But now he's a fugitive! That's no life for a woman and baby."

"No, ma'am." He wondered what she wanted.

"I heard…," she began hesitantly. "I heard that Uncle wanted to send him to prison."

"Mmhm."

"I heard him talking to the sheriff. A government man is here to look into things, and he wants the file on Jess, and on another case…"

Wayne sat up a little straighter. "Oh, yeah?" He tried to not sound too interested.

"They talked about making sure those files wouldn't be found. Mr. Grant, is… is my uncle in trouble?"

Wayne looked fully into her face for the first time the conversation started. Her countenance held concern, yes, but was that a little shame as well?

"I believe he is, Ms. Sanders. Deep trouble."

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't ever agreed to go out with Jess, this would've never happened. Now I've ruined his life, and Lucy's, and maybe even my uncle's. I'm a spoiled brat!"

Wayne patted her shoulder with genuine comfort. "Now listen, Ms. Sanders, Jess is pretty tough. I bet you he can get out of this. But he'll need some help."

"Help? Is there something I can do?"

"It'll mean turning against your uncle," Wayne warned.

"What will happen to him?"

"I would imagine they would take away his bench, if not his law license."

She nibbled her lip. "I suppose with a man's life at stake, those things don't really matter. I… I choose Jess. I'll do what I can to help him."

She returned a couple hours later. "I found the files in his room, hidden under a loose board. I only noticed it because I went in there to dust once and caught the hem of my skirt on it. It seemed loose, but I never tried to pull it up...until now, that is."

She held out the parcels of papers. "One of these has Jess' name on it. The other one I didn't recognize."

Wayne took the files, flipping through everything. "Thankfully he's too organized and couldn't stand to simply destroy these documents."

She looked around, as though afraid of being seen. "Please don't let him know how you got these. Maybe he'll figure it out, but I'd rather leave that to chance."

He held out his hand, taking hers in a gentle grasp. "You have my word, Ms. Sanders. Your uncle isn't all bad, you know. He did this out of love for you."

She gave a small, nervous laugh. "Well, he sure has a funny way of showing it. Um…, could you try to make the government man go easy on him? He's all my aunt has, you know."

"I will. Take care."

"You too, Mr. Grant. You too."


	15. Busted Loose

**Sorry for the kinda boring chapters before. Everything will bust loose now! Hold to your hats, pards!**

Chapter 15: Busted Loose

A week had passed. No news didn't feel like good news to Jess. He was chomping at the bit. He had taken to patrolling the woods around the line shack, due to nervousness that Fred would try to sneak up on them. Additionally, he was just about to go crazy with the inactivity. He was used to working long and hard.

Finally, he heard what he was afraid of: more than one horse coming up through the trees. Slim was always alone, so he knew it couldn't be him. Jess scrambled back to the shack as quickly as possible, praying he'd make it in time.

He made it into the clearing in front of the shack and paused. Everything was quiet, maybe too quiet. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, prickling with awareness, as he heard heavy breath behind him. He wheeled around just in time to evade outstretched arms, tripping the assailant, but the move cost Jess his feet as well. He rolled away, trying to get his bearings. A large man was coming to his feet as well, pulling his gun. Jess reflexively pulled and fired at the man, grazing his arm. He dropped the gun with a cry, but this was not a victory for Jess, as the shot drew the attention of the men in the woods. He heard galloping hooves swiftly approaching. He ignored the injured man and charged up to the house.

"Lucy! Luuuccyyyy!"

A muffled cry sounded from inside the cabin, and Jess knew instantly that he was too late. His largest fear manifested as Lucy stumbled out of the door, clutching Jeremy to her chest, a man behind her. Jess growled angrily, his hand tightening on his pistol.

He heard a voice behind him, one that made his stomach roll in revulsion. "What have we got here? A happy little family?"

Jess dropped his shoulders in a sign of defeat, then pivoted on one heel to face Ames, but the dastardly man was prepared for this. Before Jess could completely turn, he was struck on the neck by what felt like the barrel of a gun. He collapsed to the ground, Lucy's screams ringing in his ears until he heard nothing at all.

Jess jerked awake later from cold water flung into his face. "Wakey, wakey, little Harper boy," he heard Ames' voice taunting. "Daddy's calling you home."

Jess blinked the water from his eyes, not too surprised to find himself on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. "What…?"

"Lucy's old man pitched in money to sweeten the reward the judge put out on your head. We bring you back, we get an extra 50 dollars apiece."

Jess' stomach twisted as Ames leaned in close. "Unfortunately, for you, he didn't specify on what condition you were to be in when you got back, except that you were alive." Ames' rough fingers clamped onto Jess' face, causing Jess' teeth to press painfully against the inside of his mouth. "We're gonna take a nice long way back to Cheyenne. Maybe Lucy won't find you so pretty by the time we get there."

"She'd still pick a pig over someone like you," Jess managed to squeeze out.

Ames released Jess' face just so he could backhand the Texan so hard it split his lip. "Remember what you said back at the Turners'?" Ames asked.

Jess peeled his cheek from the damp ground where he had landed after being struck. "I said a lot of things, none of which you had a good answer to."

Ames snarled in annoyance. "You said that I owed you my life. Consider the tables turned, Harper. I hold your life in my hands now."

"I'm scared, Fred, really I am. Does that make you feel better?"

Ames got to his feet from where he had been kneeling, brushing pine needles from his jeans. "Yeah, it does, Jess, because soon you're gonna mean those words."

Jess rolled his eyes, to which Ames responded with a hearty kick in Jess' ribs. "Try to get some rest, Jess. We're leaving first thing in the morning."

Once Jess recovered his breath, he rolled to his seat, looking around anxiously at his surroundings. They were still at the line shack, and the sun hadn't moved much since he had been cold-cocked. He figured he must've only been out at the most half an hour. Lucy...where was she? Jess hated his helplessness. He tried to get to feet, but was jerked back to the ground by an unseen force. He cranked his neck over his shoulder and saw that a line from the ropes around his wrists was cinched up tight to a horse's stake-out spike. "Great," he muttered, the lump on the back of his neck throbbing in sync with his racing heart.

He pivoted as best as he could, searching for the girl he was supposed to protect. All he saw was a few men milling around a fire they had built in the clearing about 10 feet from where he was tethered. He sat there for ages, wondering if he should call out of if that would just make matters worse. _"Now would be a good time to show up, Slim."_

Slim finished putting the last stage of the day's horses away when he heard the light clip-clop of a single horse's hooves coming from the east-bound road. He squared his broad shoulders, wondering who could be coming from that direction at dusk. He squinted in the dim light to make out a horse with a sandy mane and tail bobbing its head with flashy energy. A tall man sat wearily in the saddle, a sharp contrast to the fresh-looking animal.

The stranger's head came up in startlement of his surroundings, as though he hadn't realized he was riding right into somebody's farm yard. He noticed Slim with a surprised jerk. His hand flew to his side, causing Slim to jump behind the barn door.

"Wait, wait," the stranger called. Slim peeped through a knot-hole to see the man put his hands in the air. "I didn't mean to pull on you. Just startled me, is all."

Slim walked out cautiously, his hand resting on the butt of his sidearm. "You look stove in, mister."

"I am, for certain. Been riding non-stop since yesterday morning."

"All night? Your horse sure don't show it."

The man patted the animal's neck fondly. "Aw, Blaze can keep on like this for days."

Slim smiled a touch before asking, "Anything I can do you for? You're welcome to some hot food if you'd like. Laramie's another 12 miles, so if you'd like to bunk in the bunkhouse, it's open."

"Only 12 miles, you say?" Slim watched as the man's face changed from fatigue to excitement. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know a Jess Harper, by chance?"

"Maybe," Slim said cautiously. "Name sounds familiar." Jess was on the run, after all.

The man's shoulders slumped. "Shucks, I've been looking for him. Got good news for him. Came all the way from Cheyenne."

Slim's curiosity peaked. "What's your name?"

"Wayne Grant, deputy up there."

"Mr. Grant, step down!" Slim exclaimed. "I'm Slim Sherman, Jess' boss!"

Grant leapt from the horse's saddle, his sore muscles forgotten. "He said he worked out this way, but we never got too acquainted for me to know where for sure. What luck!"

They shook hands vigorously. "How are things?" Slim asked. "Have they thrown out Jess' case?"

Grant grinned broadly, his teeth shining through the dust on his face. "Boy howdy, yes sir! Thrown out, every last charge. That's why I'm here! We need to go back to Cheyenne to get everything settled." He looked around. "Are they… is he here?"

Slim remembered Jess speaking about how the deputy who had helped them did so with the undercurrent reason of romantic feelings for Lucy. The shine in the deputy's eyes made it clear. "Not here specifically, no, but close. Him and Lucy, and little Jeremy of course."

"Can we go and see them?"

Slim looked around. In the time they had been talking, the sun had gone completely down behind the mountains. "Umm… well, it's a bit of a rough ride to the cabin they've been hiding in, and it's almost too dark to see already. We'd better wait until morning. Besides, I bet you haven't had anything to eat or a bed for quite a spell."

Grant appeared anxious, but reluctantly agreed. "You're probably right. But I want to head out first thing."

"We'll leave at first light!"

Unfortunately for Jess, Fred and his gang of miscreants had the same idea. Fred came out first thing and kicked Jess in the leg. He could hardly move, he was so stiff from lying tied up on the ground all night.

"Get up, time to get moving."

Jess hardly felt the kick, his legs were so numb. "Where's Lucy?" He growled.

"Easy, easy, Harper. I ain't touched her, nobody has. Wouldn't want her old man to get mad about anything before he turns over his share of the reward. Then, once you're out of the way, who knows? Maybe I'll get a shot to take your place."

Jess angrily struggled to get to his feet, but the tether cut him short.

"Here, let me help you, ol' buddy," Ames teased. He untied the rope attached to the stake, then grabbed Jess' collar to get him to his feet.

Jess staggered away from the man, feeling returning to his feet with painful prickles. He had hardly slept, he was so worried about Lucy. He didn't hear a peep all night long coming from the cabin, and for the most part he didn't think he saw anyone coming or going from the door. Most of the men - he had counted four, including Fred - seemed to be sleeping in the lean-to where Jess had been living, with the exception of when they took turns guarding him.

These men were now saddling horses, Traveler included. Jess turned to Fred, ashamed to ask for anything.

Fred seemed to read his mind. "Shucks, Harper, even I'm not gonna deny a man dignity for _that_."

He untied Jess and allowed him to relieve himself behind a tree, then handed Jess some cold biscuits and a canteen. "Eat up, boy, we've got a long hard day ahead of us. We're gonna cut through on the old Moccasin trail. It'll save us time, and we won't run into anybody else that might want a piece of you."

Jess accepted the meager breakfast, wondering if Fred knew what he was signing up for. While Jess had cut across country, he hadn't gone far from the main road. Fred was speaking about an old trail that Indians used to use, and it was a difficult one. Jess had only journeyed over part of it, and he didn't relish the thought of trying it again.

He finished the meal and was getting a drink from the canteen when the door opened. Lucy and Jeremy were escorted out by one of Fred's friends.

"Get her on a horse," Fred commanded.

Jess turned to Fred in surprise. "You can't mean you're bringing her and the baby with us?"

"You expect me to just leave her here?"

"She'd be better off. It's a hard ride!"

Fred snorted. "You made it here just fine when you were running."

"Fred, I mean it, it's too dangerous. You can't -"

Fred turned on Jess, teeth bared. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do, boy. You're not in charge here. Get her mounted, I said!"

A man roughly grabbed Lucy around the waist, and Jess instinctively acted. "Get your hands off her!" He charged up and shoved the man to the ground, ready to fight.

The other two men grabbed Jess' arms and twisted them behind his back. Fred came up slowly, attempting to look confident. His strutting only made him look like an arrogant fool, but Jess didn't think it would be wise to point that out.

"Harper," Fred steamed, "I untied you as an act of kindness, though I don't know why now. You'll pay for what you did to Lansing there."

The man named Lansing rose up from the ground, a big grin showing stained teeth. "Pretty boy, thinks he can push me around, huh?"

Jess' eyes widened as he took in the look of low intelligence that was plainly obvious on the large man's face.

"You shot me yesterday, pretty boy," Lansing said in a disturbing sing-songy voice, pointing to the dirty bandage on his arm.

"You were gonna shoot _me_ ," Jess hedged.

Lansing nodded. "True, that's true. Still, it weren't very nice."

Jess couldn't even try to brace himself before the blow fell. Lansing slapped Jess with an open hand, crushing his lips against his teeth on one side.

Jess saw stars as blood dripped from his mouth. His knees automatically folded, as he was still somewhat shaken from the hit on the neck the day before, but he was kept mostly upright by the two holding his arms. Lansing's large hand cupped Jess' chin and lifted it up. "Be bad again, little boy," Lansing cooed. "I liked the way that felt."

Jess felt a chill as Lansing's large thumb traced back and forth on Jess' stubbly jaw line. Finally the man whipped out a long strip of rawhide. "Want me to cinch him up for ya, Fred?"

"Sure, Lan."

Jess arms were brought around in front and Lansing bound Jess' wrists with the rough material, cutting deep into Jess' flesh. Jess winced at the tightness and flexed his fingers, annoyed at the treatment. Shock filled him when Lansing twirled him around and hoisted him aboard Traveler like a child, manhandling him in a way that colored Jess' cheeks. Lucy had wisely mounted when the attention wasn't on her, her eyes full of concern as she looked across at Jess. Jess tried to nod with assurance, but with blood dripping off his chin, he was sure he wasn't convincing anybody.


	16. Journey to Nowhere

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay, but I was on a weekend trip. Things will get pretty exciting from here on out! I will try to update a little more quickly. Hang onto your hats! Jess is in for some real trouble now. Let's hope he can hang on to that temper!**

Chapter 16: Journey to Nowhere

It seemed as though the only thing Jess did lately was to ride back and forth between Laramie and Cheyenne. The return trip to Cheyenne was twice as rough, following an ancient trail that faded in and out randomly. Jess was torn in helping the group find their way. He didn't want to get to Cheyenne any faster, but there was Lucy and Jeremy to think about. They were stretched thin. Jeremy was starting to cough some, as the damp spring weather was no good on a little guy. Jess tried to ride close to the pair, but with his hands tied together in front of him, he had little control over where he was placed in the group.

Jess watched Fred carefully all day. He was clearly the one with the most brains of the group, but that definitely wasn't saying much. That made this whole situation that much more dangerous. Lansing in turn watched Jess, giving Jess the creeps whenever they made eye contact. The man reminded Jess of Roany Bishop, a man Jess just as soon wished he could forget.

After about four hours riding, Fred's frustration with the difficult terrain was visibly mounting. Finally, Jess took a fortifying breath and guided Traveler close to Fred's side. "Ames, listen. We're wanderin' in circles."

"We're fine, Harper. Get back with Lucy and see if you can get that baby to quit bawling. It's driving me crazy."

"Ames, we're not completely lost yet. Let me help. I know my way around here. We need to angle —"

Jess was not prepared for Fred's anger. The man viciously swung out his hand, whipping Jess on the neck and face with his reins. Jess threw up his elbow to protect his face, leaning away. Traveler whinnied in fear and leapt away from the raging man, unbalancing Jess. He fell against a tree, the rough bark scraping painfully against his body before he was able to regain his control over the frightened animal.

The procession ground to a halt behind the altercation, Lucy calling out, "Jess, are you alright?"

Jess touched his face and felt welts swelling on his cheekbone and behind one ear. His shoulder was scraped through the thin material of his shirt and he could feel warm blood seeping through the fabric. "I'm fine, Lucy."

Lucy trotted her sturdy grey closer. "No, you're not. Fred, stop this foolish behavior at once! You have no right to treat Jess this way!" Jeremy's low cries became louder.

Fred's face was a livid shade of purple. "Don't tell me what to do, woman! And shut that baby up, or I'll shut him up for you!"

Lucy clutched Jeremy close. "Shh, shh, honey." She put her finger in the child's mouth to pacify him. The baby latched on hungrily. "Fred, please," she pleaded in as soothing a voice as possible. "Please, let us stop so I can feed him. Please, he's hungry is all. Once he's fed, he'll calm down, I promise."

Jess watched Fred as the man internally struggled to bring himself under control. "Fine," he blurted finally. "We'll stop for a quick rest. And I mean quick!"

Everyone dismounted, Jess rushing to help Lucy as best he could with bound hands. She placed Jeremy in the ring made by Jess' arms before dismounting herself. She fetched the canteen that held milk from Slim's cow and grabbed a bottle from the saddle bag. When she turned back, tears were brimming in her eyes.

"Come on, now," Jess whispered. "It'll be alright."

"But you're hurt. Fred has gone crazy. I haven't seen him look like that since… since…"

"Don't worry, Slim'll be after us soon. He said he'd be comin' to bring more milk, and he'll track us down easy."

"I hope you're right."

Things only became worse after the party started up again. While they had stopped, one of Fred's friends noticed that his horse had thrown a shoe and had a bad bruise. Fred announced that the man could take Jess' horse.

Ames laughed gleefully at Jess' sour expression. "Don't worry, Jess. It can't be far to Cheyenne now."

"Leave the guy here with his lame horse. He can walk to the road and hitch a ride," Jess recommended, hoping the man would then get lost.

"No, no, I like my idea better." With that announcement, Fred grabbed Jess' wrists and tied the end of a rope to the rawhide binding them. "No, Jess, you can walk and pray we find a farmer to swap horses."

Jess had no choice but to scramble after Fred when the man nearly yanked the Texan from his feet. Already the skin on his wrists was abraded and sore; it was only a matter of time before they would be a complete mess.

It seemed like hours passed as Lucy watched Jess slog across the slippery pine needles in his slick-soled cowboy boots. His wrists began to bleed freely and dripped down his arms into his sleeves. Lucy began to grow fearful and was beginning to wonder if Fred really intended to collect the reward on Jess' head, especially after Fred dragged him through a deep stream. Fred rode upstream a ways, despite Lucy's protests, claiming to be "erasing their trail."

Jess slipped once, but that was all it took for him to never be able to regain his footing again. The stream was swollen with melting snow and spring rains and was ice cold. By the time they finally stopped, Jess was nearly drowned.

Fred drug Jess' unresisting body onto the shore. Jess laid unmoving on his stomach, his arms stretched above his head.

"Somebody help him, please," Lucy pleaded, Jeremy whimpering in the sling on her back.

Finally a man named Fitz dismounted and pounded Jess on the back. Water spewed from Jess' mouth as he coughed wetly.

Fred sneered at Lucy. "Not so much of a man now, is he?"

Lucy stared down at Jess' sodden form, trying not to cry. She had cried enough because of Fred. "He's still more a man that you, even in the shape you've put him in."

Fred ground his teeth audibly. "We'll see, Lucy, we'll see."

Slim crouched on the ground close to the trail. "Look, Jess' hat."

Wayne stood close by. "Looks like a horse almost fell here. They got off after that."

Slim kicked the needles around and saw metal gleam dully. "A horseshoe. I bet this'll slow 'em down some."

"Slow 'em down, huh, like they needed any more help. Where does this idiot think he's going?"

Slim put the hat into his provisions bag. "It's easy to get turned around in here. I imagine Jess isn't doing his part to help either."

"No, he's not. But things have gotten worse. I think Jess is on foot. Looks like somebody was drug here."

Slim growled with red-hot anger. He grabbed up a hunk of mane and swung into the saddle. "It's gonna get dark soon. We've got to cover more ground before then."

Wayne lifted eyes to heaven, praying that they would all be safe when they caught up to them.

Several hours later, they camped on the trail, unwilling to press further in fear that they would lose the way in the dark. Slim rolled out his bedroll and sat on it, pressing his hand to the ground for balance. Something sticky clung to his palm, and his stomach clenched when he saw in the lantern light what it was - blood. "Oh, Jess, be alright. Hang on until we can get there."

Jess was hanging on… to the rope over his head. Fred had tossed the rope over a tree branch, keeping Jess in a standing position as everyone else prepared to bed down for the night.

Fred played with his end of the rope, yanking suddenly, then loosening it enough that Jess felt his knees buckling, before pulling it back tight again. All he wanted to do was lay down and rest, but even that was being denied him.

Fred had become more and more obsessed with belittling Jess in front of Lucy, as though it would make her desire the cowardly man.

Like that would ever happen.

Still, Jess worried that Lucy would do something rash in order to protect him. He hated his own helplessness, that he couldn't shield her. Fred hadn't so much as touched her or Jeremy yet, but Jess fretted that it was only just a matter of time. Fred had proved already when this whole fiasco began that he was above common decency.

Finally, Fred became bored with his game and tied off the rope with enough slack for Jess to land on his knees. He then wandered off to the small fire for supper. Lucy rushed across the camp, a canteen in one hand and Jeremy on the other hip.

She pushed the mouth of the canteen against Jess' lips, and he gulped greedily. "Do you want anything to eat?" She whispered, and frowned when he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"No, no thanks. Not hungry."

Lucy's hand fluttered to his forehead. "You're warm," she commented. "And your clothes are still damp!"

Jess leaned his head against his upward-stretched arm. "Don't worry none, Lucy. I'll be fine," he sighed.

"You keep saying that, as though you expect me to listen. What are we going to do? We're lost, aren't we?"

Jess shook his head a touch. "I think I know where we are… but it's been hard to keep track lately. I'm not at my best right now." His last words were followed by sharp and wet coughs.

Lucy placed Jeremy down by Jess' side and determinedly walked to where the end of the rope was tied. She proceeded to struggle with the knot until it finally loosened. As she let her end fall to the ground, Jess' arms dropped with a gasp.

Fred finally noticed what was going on. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"The humane thing to do, that's what," Lucy declared, striding over to face Fred. "I don't know what you think you're going to prove, treating him this way, but all it's going to get you is a big fat load of nothing."

Jess was hunched over his hands, his arms and wrists in so much pain he could hardly manage. However, his head came up to watch the drama unfolding in front of him.

Fred and Lucy were standing toe to toe, something that amazed Jess. That Lucy could stand up like that to her attempted rapist… it really was something.

"He's going to jail," Fred sneered, "he don't deserve any better."

"You should know better than anyone else he doesn't belong in jail," Lucy accused. "What is my father going to say when my _husband_ turns up beaten?"

At this point, everyone in the camp was watching in fascination. "Hey," a man named Reynolds put in, "You think this could mess with us gettin' our re-ward?"

Fitz muttered out of the side of his mouth, "Sure does make you wonder."

Fred waved his arms sharply. "Shut up, everyone. Her father hates Harper there for leaving her with that baby. Don't any of you forget that." He took a step toward Lucy. "You lied all this time about that little one. Why should he believe you now? Think about that, little tart, think about that." And with that, he grasped her throat in one hand and a fistful of hair in the other. "I could get away with _anything_ right now, you know. We're all alone out here with Mr. Harper there. Who's to say he didn't want some lovin' on the trail, hmm? Maybe got a little rowdy? Would we deny a man goin' to prison that privilege?"

Jess lurched to his feet, his pain forgotten. "Leave her be, Fred. I mean it."

Lucy's eyes were wide, but she held her ground without a whimper. "My father…"

"Ain't here, girl. Don't you forget it…"

Jess tried to move forward, but Lansing appeared out of nowhere and put a heavy hand on Jess' shoulder. "Go ahead and fight me, sonny."

Jess' pulse spiked and he froze as Lansing's thumb pressed against the nerve bundle close to his neck. Tension was building until the moment was broken by an unexpected party.

"Fred," Reynolds warned, "me and the boys are nervous about our reward. Don't do nothin' that could mess that up for us." He stroked the butt of his pistol threateningly.

Fred held his ground for a moment, then pushed Lucy away. "Fine, fine. It's all fine. It'll keep."

Lucy came back to Jeremy, who had sat silently on the ground the entire time. "I feel like a horrible person," she muttered, "leaving poor Jeremy alone like this. Some mother I claim to be." She bundled up in her blanket with her son snuggled in with her.

Meanwhile, Lansing pulled down the loose rope from the tree. "Take care of your business. I'll be keeping a hold on your little leash here. Try anything funny and I'll get you back here if I have to drag you on the ground."

Jess quickly did as directed, then returned. He was given a blanket and food, with Lansing keeping a grip on the lariat a few paces away. Jess drifted to sleep later, feeling like a dog tied up for the night.


	17. A Lesson

**Does it look normal now? I hope so. I've had trouble with this chapter showing up funny. Anyway, I feel as though I might be pretty mean to poor Jess in this chapter. Who will volunteer to take care of him? Please, form an orderly line... :)**

Chapter 17: A Lesson

They saddled up in the morning, and Jess tried his best to be as cooperative as possible. Lucy and he had made a plan to be complacent, just so they could get Jeremy home to a warm house. The weather was continuing to be foggy and damp, and Jeremy was coughing more.

They started out as before, with Lansing leading Jess like a pack animal. Jess listened to Jeremy cough from behind the group for a mile or so before he finally worked up his gumption. He trotted up past Lansing, who surprisingly did nothing, to get alongside Fred. "Ames, can I talk to you about something?"

Fred glared down at Jess. "What, Harper?"

"The baby's sick, Fred. You've got to let me help us get there faster."

"I've _got to_ , huh? You think you're in charge, boy?"

"No, I don't, but that kid needs to get to shelter and food! We're almost out of milk!"

"It'd do good to toughen him up some. He's a wimpy little whelp."

"He's a baby, Fred! They don't come out ready to ride broncs!"

"He's your son, Harper. You should be able to take care of him."

"At least let them go ahead. I'll point them to the main road, and they can get there before us."

Fred pulled up abruptly. "Harper, if you don't shut up, I'll make you."

Jess stood his ground. "What will it take to get you to listen? You'll get no reward if somethin' happens to Lucy and Jeremy. Can't you understand that?"

Lucy rode up beside. "Fred, please listen. He's right. It's not your fault we're lost; you just haven't been out here as much as he has."

"Oh, so he's the heroic mountain scout too? Tell me, Lucy, is there nothin' that your boy Harper can't do?"

Her eyes were soft and pleading. "He can't make the right decision that needs made now, to let Jeremy and me go."

Fred thought a moment. "I'll let you go if you admit that he's a yellow-belly, that you'll stick with your story to the law about… what happened."

Lucy's eyes fluttered to Jess' face. "I, I…"

Fred's anger surged. "Do not look at him! I'm in charge, not him!"

"Then prove it, Fred!" Jess shouted. "Let them go! You don't need them with us!"

"Lansing, get Harper back! I don't want him to bother me again."

Lansing hauled back on the rope, but Jess found strength in his anger and started struggling. "They won't be able to go much farther, Fred! Use your head!" Lansing pulled hard, but Jess pulled just as hard, his boots slipping on the rocky ground.

Fred held up a hand, and Lansing stopped pulling. "Harper, you're really starting to bother me. You're slowing us down, you know."

Jess panted and coughed. "You gotta have me if you want a reward, Fred."

"I suppose you're right. Well, we'll go a little faster on this part of the trail, to make up for lost time. The sooner we get there, the sooner your precious wife and son can get to shelter, _Harper_."

Lucy desperately reentered the conversation. "Fred, please, you can't do that. Jess is on foot!"

"He can prove to you how much he loves you. If he can keep up, then I'll let him show me a faster way so you and the whelp can get to your father's place. But for now, it's the Moccasin trail, double time!"

They set out on the trot, Lansing dragging Jess behind.

*****

About an hour later Jess stumbled and fell to his knees, and knew he could not return to his feet. Lansing drug him a few paces before he reined in. "Ames! Harper's down."

Ames pivoted his horse around and trotted back. He dismounted and stood before Jess, who was stretched out face down, gasping for breath. Fred cursed and grabbed Jess by an arm and flipped him over. "Lansing, bring me some water."

Fred poured water over Jess' face and into his panting mouth. Jess coughed and choked, but managed to swallow some of the water. "Yeah, yeah, there ya are," Ames teased. "Didn't think you'd give up that easy." He turned to Lansing. "Get him up and going again. We don't have that much further to go."

Fred stalked away, leaving Lansing behind with Jess. The huge man grabbed Jess' wrists and dragged Jess over to a large rock and propped the exhausted man against it, dropping Jess' blood-covered hands in his lap.

"Here, have ya a little drink, sonny," Lansing said, holding up the canteen.

"Not from you," Jess grunted, his head lolling from side to side with fatigue.

Lansing sat back, offended. "Why not from me? What I ever do to you? Now getchya'self a big ol' swaller here."

"No thanks, I'll be fine." Jess tried to push the canteen away with his bound hands.

"Now listen, boy, I've had about all I can take outta you. If you don't drink, you ain't gonna make it to Cheyenne. Now put this down your throat, right now."

"No," Jess growled. He was an idiot, he knew. He needed the water, but he couldn't let that buffoon treat him like a baby. He'd had enough for one day. He just couldn't take one more attack on his pride.

Lansing sighed. "Fine, then I guess I'll just have to make ya." One meaty hand clamped onto the side of Jess neck while the other forced the canteen to his lips. Water sloshed out into Jess' mouth before he could push the vessel away. He coughed and sprayed the water out from his mouth right into Lansing's face.

Lansing's face turned a dark shade of red as the water dripped from his chin. "You ought not to have done that, pretty boy."

Jess leaned away unconsciously, his hands held up slightly for protection. "Lan…"

"Nobody spits in my face!" Lansing stood, dragging Jess up with him. He pressed the bound man over the boulder, which stood about waist high. Jess scrabbled for purchase as his feet left the ground, desperately trying to get away.

"Apologize, sonny, and maybe I won't smash your pretty little face in." Lansing put one big hand over Jess' throat, pressing him down against the rough stone. Jess writhed under the strong hand, legs kicking at Lansing's knees.

Jess was hardly aware of the presence of others until he heard Fred's voice. "What is going on now?"

"Pretty boy here disrespected me, spit in my face. I'm tryin' to get him to apologize to me."

The only sound heard for a moment was the sound of Jess' ragged panting and the scratching of his boot heels against the boulder.

"Well, what were you planning to do to him if he didn't apologize?" Fred finally asked.

Lansing's face loomed into Jess' periphery. "Teach him a lesson on respect, I reckon."

Fred's countenance was also visible at this point. He smirked down at Jess, laughing at rigid muscles, jaw locked in a state of defiance. "Jess, do you need to be taught a lesson, or are you going to apologize to poor Lan here?"

"Why don't you go where it's hot, both of ya," Jess snapped.

"Tsk, tsk," Fred chided. "Go ahead, Lan. Just don't kill him."

Lansing grinned his big sneer and patted Jess' cheek. "One last chance, pretty boy. Say you're sorry, and we can forget this every happened."

Jess rolled his head and bit Lansing's pointer finger. Lan howled and struck Jess' face with his other hand until Jess released his hold.

Before Jess could do anything else, Lansing had him flipped over onto his stomach, stretching him over the rock like a buffalo hide drying in the sun. Fitz appeared in Jess' vision, gripping the tether attached to Jess' wrists and pulling it tight so that his arms were outstretched over his head. There was weight suddenly pressing against his legs, keeping them still as well.

The realization of what was about to happen caused Jess' heart to climb his throat. Suddenly he forgot his bravado of earlier. "You can't do this!" he yelled. Memories rose unbidden like demons in the night, memories of beatings when he was in the Yankee prison camp. They started in a way similar to this. He thrashed manically, but to no avail. Fitz braced the rope around a tree, pulling even tighter until Jess could hardly move. His hands felt as though they would be torn from his wrists and fresh blood gushed forth.

When a hand pressed against the small of his back, his body bucked of its own accord. The hand pushed in harder, fingers digging into flesh as they yanked his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. He heard the fabric rip as someone tore the thin material up to the collar. The loud tearing noise sparked terror in Jess' body, and his spasms doubled.

Lucy was shouting nearby, but he could not comprehend her words' meaning. He could only hear the angry Yankee sergeant screaming, _"Twenty lashes, rebel scum! See if you feel like disrespecting me then!"_

"Apologize, Harper," Fred calmly said. "Apologize and this won't happen."

"Disrespect me, why don't ya," Lan muttered in a crazed voice. "Everybody disrespects me…"

Jess turned his head and saw Lan taking off his thick belt. "No," he whispered, and suddenly he was 8 years old, watching his drunken father prepare for a beating. _"You'll learn respect the hard way, boy. You're bad, clean through. You shame your mama and me. You'll be dead before you're a grown man."_

Lucy took the place of his mother, jumping into his line of sight. Jess heard his mother, _"He's just a boy, he didn't mean it."_

And just the same, he saw Lucy be pushed away where she fell into Fred's arms. He held her tightly, laughing. "See how tough your man is, Lucy? He'll be crying, begging to say he's sorry, that he'll be a good little boy!"

Everything else was lost in a haze of Jess' combined memories, the combination of the Yankee sergeant and his father flashing in a mixture of pictures and angry voices. When the first blow fell, it was not Lan but his father bringing the whistling leather down with a loud slap. When Fred's voice taunted, he could smell the sergeant's pipe tobacco smoke wafting over his face. When Lucy pleaded, it was his mother begging God for help for her husband and son.

"God…," Jess croaked. His back arched with each crack of the belt, but he could not escape the grip on his hands and legs.

"Yes, the Almighty is the only one who can save you know," laughed Fred.

The belt fell again and again.


	18. Help from Above?

**I think that the previous chapter is fixed now. Sorry for the technical difficulties! I was at work all day so couldn't fix it until I got home. Anyway, thanks to everyone who read it anyway! Thanks also for letting me know it was messed up. I will be more careful to preview chapters each time I update. I also just noticed that my story breaks (I use asterisks) have not transferred onto here. How annoying! Now it makes the chapters confusing when the scene changes... maybe I'll go back and add some.**

 **Just a note - I don't love torture or that sort of thing. I just write stories. I try to keep things about PG-13, and I also feel as though things like this happened on old Western tv shows and movies. I try to stay true to that style.**

 **Lastly, thanks so much for all the positive reviews! They help me be motivated to update more quickly. I am very tired when I get home from work, so it takes a little push to get me to log on and send an update your way. Enjoy this next chapter!**

Chapter 18: Help from Above?

"God, please help us," Lucy breathed, tears streaking down her dirty face. Jeremy was screaming in her arms, and she felt like joining him. Fred still gripped her arm above her elbow, practically the only thing holding her upright.

Lansing raised his arm again, bringing the now bloody strip of leather down upon Jess' back with a loud, fleshy slap. Jess' tan skin was shining with perspiration, making the blood run swiftly in currents down his ribs to drip onto the rough boulder's surface.

Finally, Fred called for a halt. "I think he's learned his lesson, Lan."

Lan had barely broken into a sweat. He nonchalantly wiped the blood from his belt with a piece of Jess' shirt that hung ruined from his shoulders. He patted Jess' shoulder in a friendly manner, evoking a massive flinch from the trapped man. "Had enough pretty boy? At least I spared your pretty face, huh?"

Jess released a strangled grunt, and Lucy realized that he had been holding his breath throughout the entire ordeal. He had not made a sound, not once.

Fitz released his hold, as did Reynolds. Jess' arms fell loosely, pants continuing to come in short bursts.

"Throw him over Reynolds' horse," Fred commanded. "The last few miles won't hurt that foot any, not with how skinny Harper is. We'll mostly likely make it by nightfall."

Lansing grabbed one of Jess' arms and pulled him from the boulder into a standing position. Jess' knees shook, but he stayed on his feet. Lucy almost broke into sobs at her first look at Jess' face. His head hung low, his eyes dull and vacant. Lansing took up the rope dangling from Jess' wrists and coiled it up neatly. While he was doing this, Lucy silently begged Jess to look up at her, but he did not even seem to know she was there.

"Come on, sonny," Lansing said, his rage completely gone as though it had never been. He ruffled Jess' matted and sweaty hair. "You've learned your lesson real good. Come on, now." He tugged lightly on the rope and Jess wordlessly followed. His entire posture reminded her of a spirited horse that had been ridden into the ground, that was… _broken_.

XXXXX

"Jess," she whispered later. "Jess, can you hear me?"

His eyes remained down, glued to the limping horse's neck. However, her heart leapt with hope when she heard him reply with a pained, "Mhm."

"Jess, you can't keep on like this. Let me do something. I could ask Fred, ask him to let me clean you up, to…"

"No." The answer was terse and short.

"But Jess…"

"Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. Fred has gone too far, letting Lansing do what he did."

"He's crazy, Jess. I've never seen him before. Where did Fred get him?"

Jess' head turned ever so slightly to look behind, where Reynolds brought up the rear on Traveler. Fitz rode in the lead with Fred, and Lansing was just in front of them, leading both Jess and the horse. He was whistling merrily, as though they were on a Sunday jaunt.

"Doesn't matter," Jess finally answered. "I know where we are. See that hill ahead?"

"Yes."

"Your father's farm is just on the other side."

Lucy gasped in surprise. "What? But we're not even heading that way…"

"I know, because Fred is an idiot. But that's not my point."

Lansing turned his head back to look at the two, smiled in his weird way, then turned back forward.

"You think you could make the rest of the way on your own?"

Lucy gasped. "Jess, what do you mean?"

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, I could if I had to."

"There's somebody following us. Traveler was neighing, and he wouldn't do that 'less there was somebody out there. I don't know for sure who, but it could be somebody trying for the bounty on my head. The bounty hunter's game is full of cheats. They're probably waiting for us to get close to Cheyenne so they don't get lost in these trees. The closer we get, the better chance they'll spring."

He tilted his chin toward her, his bloodshot eyes pleading. "Lucy, you need to get away from us before that happens. I don't want you hurt."

"Okay," she nodded, trying to sound braver than she felt.

"Somethin's gonna happen," Jess said, "be ready for it. When it happens cut off the trail and into the trees. If you head with that hill straight in front of you, you'll run right into the main road. Follow it to the trail to your father's farm. You'll recognize landmarks, obviously. From here it can't be more'n 10 miles."

"Yes," she nodded. "I'll get Jeremy ready, too."

"Good girl," Jess affirmed.

"Will you be alright?" Lucy enquired worriedly.

"Just pray, Lucy, that's all you can do for me."

"I've been doing that non-stop since we met," Lucy smiled. "Somehow I just knew you were the kind who needed that."

XXXXX

"Somethin'" happened very quickly. Jess winked at Lucy, who recognized the signal immediately. She checked the cloths binding Jeremy to her one last time, then gripped up on her reins.

Jess' diversionary tactic was shocking to Lucy: he started to cough, great loud hacks that were so horrible sounding that she almost forgot that it was just a show. He hunched over, then sagged away from her, spilling from the saddle and rolling, the rope attached to his wrists being the only thing keeping him from tumbling down the side of a hill.

Lansing yelled and dismounted quickly, and all others turned back and joined him. Through their milling forms, Lucy could see Jess' body shaking and thrashing, coughs coming from so deep within him they sounded almost…real.

Lucy shook off the thought and quietly turned her horse into the trees, walking until she could hardly hear Jess' feigned illness. Then she nudged her horse into a trot, then a slow lope. Jeremy clung to her chest from where he was bound to it, and remained silent in what was probably fear. She put a hand to his head to help support it and loped on, her eyes never far from checking the large hill in front of her and her lips never long from saying another prayer for Jess.

Jess lay still, only just having come back to consciousness. He had intended to put on a show for the men present, but his fake coughing turned real very quickly and he found he could not take a breath. From the moment he swooned from the saddle, Jess' condition became very real. Everything that had happened after his fall was completely genuine. Between the fall and the coughing, Jess could not handle the pain from the contact of his back with the hard ground, so spasms ensued. He blacked out soon after that. Jess knew he was running a temperature, and his lungs felt heavy and full. Ever since his dragging through the river, Jess knew he was not a healthy man. The events of the day were most assuredly not helping.

"What happened?"

"Is he dead?"

"See if he's breathing."

Hands pushed aside his ruined shirt by popping off the buttons. "His heart's goin' a hunnerd miles a minute," Lansing said with his hands pressed against Jess' flesh, "and he's still breathin', though it don't sound too good."

Jess had to fight back the shudder at the feel of the man's touch. Boots shuffled through the pine needles, and horses stamped. Jess wished he could open his eyes to see if Lucy was gone, but he resisted the urge. His wondering was resolved quickly.

"Hey, that lady's gone!" Reynolds observed finally.

Before Jess knew what was happening, Fred was grabbing Jess' black hair and shaking his head around. "Jess, I know you're in there, and I know that this is a big fake! Open your eyes, or so help me, I'll open them for you!"

Jess squinted. "Huh, what's goin' on?"

Fred dropped Jess' head to the ground. "Like you don't know. Lucy's gone, probably headed home. You probably told her how to get there." He stood and kicked Jess in the side, bringing more coughs from the downed man. "Get him loaded back up, Lan."

"Sure, Fred," the large man replied. He grabbed Jess above his wrists and pulled him up, and for the first time that day, Jess let out a small sound of pain. "Ooh, those look terrible," Lansing commented.

Jess could say nothing, as his focus was squarely on staying upright.

"We'll get those fixed up when we get to Cheyenne," the bizarre man said with a comforting tone. "Come on, let's get you goin' again." He dragged Jess back to the horse like a child and hooked Jess' wrists around the saddle horn like one would drape a lasso. Before Jess could even wonder about what the man was doing, he felt rough hands vigorously brush down his back. Agony came so white-hot, his knees buckled so that he was hanging from his arms.

"What…'re you… doin'…," he gasped.

"Cleanin' off all these needles. Dang things are all stuck up in the blood."

"'m sure…it'll be…fine…"

"Now sonny boy, we can't have you gettin' these wounds dirty, huh?"

Jess could have laughed at the ridiculousness of what the man was saying. Sure, can't let those wounds that you put there get dirty, no, that just wouldn't be right.

"You understand why I had to beat ya, don't ya, sonny?"

Jess managed to get his knees to lock again, but he could not straighten up to full height. Lan helped him by pulling Jess' arms up off the saddle horn and turned him around so they faced one another. "I asked ya a question, sonny, you know?"

"No, I don't know. I don't understand anything anymore," Jess confessed truthfully, his face downcast. He couldn't bear to look the dim-witted tormentor in the eyes.

Lan nodded sadly. "You young boys don't understand, not for a long time. You got to learn respect, and I have to teach it to you, understand?"

Jess hung his head, trying to avoid this horrible lecture. His head was pounding and his vision wasn't as sharp as usual. "Sure, I understand," he finally muttered so that Lan wouldn't do something to evoke a response. Jess shamefully admitted to himself that he was to the point where he would do almost anything to keep from getting hurt more.

Fred rode near the two. "Get him loaded up, Lansing. I'm going after Lucy. I figure I can cut her off at the road. You just head on to Cheyenne and I'll catch up with you before you get there, no doubt."

 _"NO!"_ Jess shouted inside. Lucy must get away to safety. Desperation filled Jess' clouded mind and he lurched at Fred, trying to stop him.

"No you don't, sonny," Lan said in a chiding tone, dragging back on the rope. Jess swung out on the end, nearly falling.

"No! You can't go after her. She could get hurt!" Adrenaline spiked, and Jess was able to put up a halfway decent fight as Lansing reeled him in like a fish.

Fred laughed. "Now, Harper, who would hurt her? I won't touch her, promise."

"Not you," gasped Jess, flailing wildly, digging in his heels.

"Then who?"

"Them!" Jess yelled just as riders came into view at the crest of the hill. Were they help from above? Or minions from below…?

XXXXX

 **Who could it be? Is it more trouble? Or somebody else?**


	19. Bounty-Less Hunters

Chapter 19: Bounty-less Hunters

Fred's face darkened as he spied the riders. "Get him on a horse, Lan! They're probably after the bounty!"

Lan slapped the lame horse away from him and jumped aboard his horse. Dragging Jess on the rope, he pulled him close enough to grab Jess by one arm and pulled him aboard behind. Jess struggled to get his legs around the horse, made even more difficult by his bound hands.

"Fall off and you get dragged," Lan warned in an uncharacteristically unfriendly tone as he spurred the animal down the trail.

Fred galloped beside. "Let's split up. They won't know which group to follow. Reynolds and Fitz, you guys head off that way. Lan and I will follow after the girl."

The two men reluctantly left, no doubt wondering if they would ever see their share of the reward money.

XXXXX

The three men on two horses followed Lucy's trail, riding as quickly as the trees would allow.

Slim and Wayne paused a moment, studying the ground. "Looks like they split up here. They must have spotted us," Wayne observed. A lame horse stood to the side, looking worn.

"Which should we follow?"

"Wait, look!" Wayne pointed at the ground off to the side where two horses had gone. "A third set of tracks. And this!" He plucked a bit of fabric from a tree branch. "It's a torn piece of a shirt, I think." He held it out for Slim to see.

"It's Jess'," he confirmed, trying to ignore the blood that stained it.

Wayne didn't wait for Slim to follow but started after the tracks of three horses. "We didn't see Lucy before, just five horses? This has to be the way she went. But why was she riding alone?"

"Maybe Jess helped her escape."

"I'll be ever grateful to him if that's the case."

"I'll be grateful if we just find both of them, safe," Slim commented. He hadn't liked the looks of the blood they had found on a boulder. Was Jess even still alive?

The two men followed the tracks until they finally came down to the main road where tracks went both directions. "I guess we can just hope and pray that they kept on toward town," Slim said. "I don't know why they would turn back now."

Out on an open road, the riders could urge their horses to a greater speed, though with some caution. They were now in plain sight of anyone.

After a time of riding, a blind bend came in the road ahead, so they slowed to a walk. "The creek's just ahead," Wayne whispered. "I've got this feeling…"

"Me too," Slim agreed.

Sure enough, they could hear the voices of men arguing. "Let's get a little bit closer," Wayne suggested.

They rode a little further, staying out of sight, listening.

XXXXX

"We figured you might try to run off with our share of the money," Reynolds was saying.

Jess wasn't listening. Let them fight over him like the last piece of pie. He didn't much care about anything at this point.

"You know I would cut you in once we all met up in Cheyenne! Now is not the time or the place to argue about this. Those men could be right behind us, no thanks to you," Fred complained.

Jess also didn't care about the other riders. Let them come. Maybe a stray bullet would find him and would end his misery. The wild riding had reopened almost every wound on his body, and the loss of blood and lack of food was taking its toll. Traveler shifted sideways, angling himself to where Jess could actually see what was taking place.

Fitz and Reynolds had guns trained on Fred and Lansing, blocking the road. Fred was arguing, looking desperately back and forth.

"Hm," Lan said to no one in particular, but oddly enough the single syllable was enough to stop everyone's yammering.

Fred turned back, his mouth open. "What?"

"I just had a thought. I'm the one who has Harper here. Now, you all could probably shoot me, but at this range, the bullet would probably go right on through me and plug my little sonny. I would hate for you-all to miss out on the bounty just 'cause you couldn't share."

All of the other men just gaped in shock. As it turned out, Lan was smarter than they had given him credit. "Well, come on Lan," Fred gestured, "tell the boys to put their guns down."

"Go ahead," Lan said, "at least, don't point them at me. I don't care if you point them at Fred. He don't have no ace in his sleeve like me. Do as you please."

At his comment, Fitz and Reynolds both instinctively turned toward Fred… giving Lan the chance to tilt his cross-draw pistol's holster in their direction.

 _BANG – BANG!_

The still air was shattered by two shots. Wayne and Slim looked at each other with shock before setting spurs to their horses in sync.

They rounded the corner to find dust swirling and horses panicking. Wayne recognized only one man immediately – Fred Ames.

Fred saw them about the same time they saw him. He yanked his iron and snapped off a shot. Wayne and Slim leapt for cover behind a fallen log, Wayne firing as he fell. He heard a pained cry and galloping of hooves.

"Lan!" Fred yelled, "Lansing! Come back, you coward!"

"Not coward," a voice replied, "only smart. Bye, Fred."

Hooves thumped out of earshot.

Slim whispered, "Did you see Jess?"

Wayne shook his head. "It all happened too fast. He must be with that man who got away."

They sat in silence a moment. Slim could hear frightened panting but nothing else. He peeped over the log to try and take in the scene. His mouth dropped open to see two bodies lying in the dirt, sprawled and unmoving.

Wayne reloaded the spent shell quickly. "Ames, Fred Ames!" He called, keeping his head down. "Is that you over there?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Deputy Wayne Grant."

Slim could hear Fred swearing in shock. "Whattaya want?" he finally yelled back.

"I want Jess Harper and Lucy. Where are they?"

"How the heck should I know? Lucy took off. Harper helped her do it. Then Lansing took off with Harper. Shoulda knew better than to trust that crackpot." He paused a moment before asking, "Deputy, you saw me with Harper. If I help you bring him in along with Lansing for shooting those two men, we can split the reward."

Wayne smiled smugly. "Ames, there won't be any reward. Jess was exonerated. You're being called in as an accessory for his wrongful arrest and sentencing."

Silence followed. "Throw out your gun, Ames. Don't make me come after you." Wayne turned to Slim and whispered, "Do you know where he is?"

Slim shrugged a touch. "I think he's down in the creek bed. I'm not sure, but you might've clipped him."

"Ames," Wayne called again. "Toss out that iron or we'll start shooting." He chanced a peek. "He's trying to sneak down the edge of the creek, I think. I can hear splashing. I'm going to try to flank him."

"I'll cover you."

Slim put his pistol over the top of the log and fired in Fred's general direction. Dirt exploded into the air on the edge of the creek bank and Fred scrambled down further into the creek for cover. Meanwhile, Wayne dashed across the road and into the cover of the trees on the other side.

Slim listened for a moment, then fired again. He stopped and waited. Then a tremendous splash was heard, followed by sodden-sounding punches.

Slim ran in the direction Wayne had headed, weaving between the trees and undergrowth. Taking cover behind an aspen, gun held at the ready, he chanced a look down into the creek. What he saw made him smile.

Wayne and Fred Ames were duking it out in the middle of the creek. The water was high, as the snow was melting and the recent rains had swelled it even more. The two men were not at all evenly matched, and Wayne almost seemed to be toying with the soggy coward.

Finally, Wayne managed to get a hold on Fred's shoulders and shoved him under the water. He yanked him up a moment. "How's it feel to pick on somebody your own size? Not so much fun, is it?" he growled in Fred's ear before shoving him under again.

Slim crossed his arms. "Having a good time?"

Wayne looked up, eyes dancing. "Ha, yes. I've been waiting ages to do this."

Fred continued to flail. "Looks like you've got this covered," Slim said anxiously. "I'm going after that last man. Hopefully Jess is with him!"

"Good luck. I'll follow soon as I get him settled."

Slim turned and spotted none other than the familiar shape of Jess' Traveler. He ran to the animal, who was not at all alarmed at his master's friend racing up to him. Slim swung up without the stirrup and raced into the forest.

The trees thickened and he was forced to dismount to avoid getting knocked from the saddle. His heart was in his throat as he followed the disturbed pine needles. What would he find at the end of this trail?

XXXXX

Jess and Lansing had also dismounted, Lan leading horse and man like they were both of the equine species.

Occasionally Jess would fall to his knees, but Lan would drag him until Jess struggled upright again, fearful of getting stepped on by the skittish animal.

"Lan," Jess finally panted, setting back on the rope. "I can't keep on. They can't have followed us, the trees are too thick."

"You come on, sonny," Lansing commanded, yanking so hard on the rope that Jess fell flat on his chest. He coughed deeply, trying to gain a breath. Lan grabbed him by the arms and yanked him upright, knocking Jess into the neck of the horse. The animal shied away, pulling on the reins, and Lansing could not control both Jess and the horse. The horse quickly realized his potential for freedom and dragged backward, ripping the reins free from Lan's grip. Both men were left behind as the animal bolted away.

Lan swore in anger, taking his temper out on Jess. He shook Jess by the arms like a man shakes a petulant child. "See what you made me do? Now you'll have to walk the rest of the way to Cheyenne."

"Can't… it's too far…," Jess muttered, his head shaking like a rag doll's.

"You'll walk or I'll carry you!" With that, Lan gathered the rope up tightly and set off. Jess had no choice but to follow.

They continued on in this manner until they came to a small natural pool with a rocky overhang nearby, making a small cave. Lan went over to a tree protruding from the rock and tied the rope up with no slack, leaving Jess standing on shaking legs with his hands dangling next to his head. "You stay still and quiet, sonny boy," Lan ordered, coming face to face with Jess. Jess leaned away, and the act of defiance angered Lan even more still. "You look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you," he ordered, grabbing a fistful of Jess' hair and forcing his head to turn. "I'm going to go erase our trail some. If I hear so much as a peep out of you, you're going to regret it."

He left, stalking away like the giant he resembled. He snapped off a tree branch with which to brush the ground and disappeared from sight.

Jess was left standing, exhaustedly leaning against the rope, his head cradled in his upper arms. How much longer could he put up with this?

Clouds rolled in, and it began to grow dark. Rain pattered down gently. Jess was able to back up enough under the overhang to get somewhat protected. He looked at his hands, almost unable to stomach how mutilated his wrists had become.

So he stood, rain trickling down the edge of the rock and dripping on his head. The time spent standing still rather than running around had given him a little strength, as well as time to think.

 _"Lansing is gone,"_ he considered. _"Why should I stick around here? Lucy is hopefully in the clear. I should try to escape."_ Another voice in his head answered. _"Do you know what he'll do to you if he catches you?"_ Jess shook his head to try to clear it. _"I'd rather not spend any more time with him than I have to,_ " he argued back to himself.

Hold it…Was he really talking to himself? He tried to ignore the fear of becoming insane. He had been through entirely too much the past few days.

With a mental shrug, he started to try and untie the long rope attached to his wrists using his teeth. The knot was very tight, as it had been pulled on constantly since tied. Jess struggled to make any headway, frustrated at his own ineptness. He stopped to rest a moment, coughing heavily. Once the spell ended, he tried again, plucking at the knot with his front teeth. He thought wryly about the situation: left tied up like a dog, chewing on stuff like a dog. He was sick of being treated this way.

After several minutes of no progress whatsoever, he decided to try and climb up and untie the rope from that end. Scrambling on the slick, wet stone, he managed to reach the tree where Lan had been able to reach to tie the rope. When he finally made it, he made another frustrating discovery: his hands were completely numb and useless. Seething in frustration, he lashed out with one foot, kicking the tree. He was surprised when it busted loose due to shallow root structure. _"Hm,"_ he thought to himself. _"I'll have to remember that trick."_

The tree was free at the roots, but the branches were tangled in the trees around it. Jess decided he'd better not chance falling from his perch trying to pull it free and started his descent down. He would wait until he had better footing before pulling on the rope to shake the tree loose.

By this point, he was soaking wet from the rain, but the cool water felt glorious on his bruised body. His injured back wasn't helping his escape attempts any, and occasionally a large spasm would shake his frame.

He made it back to where he was before and glanced around. Dusk had fallen, and a fog was creeping up from the damp ground, making the entire area look vaguely like a graveyard. Jess gave a shiver; he hoped it was just _like_ a graveyard and wouldn't _become_ a graveyard.

He turned his attention back to task, shaking the rope as best he could without causing further damage to his wrists. The tree bounced and danced in the springy branches of its neighbors, but was very stubborn to remain where it was. Jess cursed his lack of thinking about the entanglement all the young trees in the forest experienced, especially when fighting for sunlight. It made it very difficult to clear them out, as they would be all twisted together.

He had stopped for a moment when he heard a twig snapping behind him. Jess whirled to face the forest, nervousness swirling in his stomach. Was that Lansing coming back? He listened carefully, but only heard water droplets dripping from branches. He turned back to his work, rejoicing when the tree shook a little freer.

Finally, the tree slipped from its perch to the stone floor of the overhang, its rough branches brushing against Jess. He staggered backward, nearly slipping from the table into the pool beside it, catching himself just in time.

Now that the tree was free, he worked feverishly to shake the loop around the trunk down over the roots. Every brushing of a branch in the wind was Lan returning, and Jess could hardly maintain his attention on the task at hand. He knew that he had a fever building in his body, and now the cold rain was not a comfort but almost more than his frazzled nerves could handle. He started shaking with chills, his teeth chattering audibly.

Finally, the loop was free from the tree. For a moment he simply stared in shock, unsure of what to do. He was… free? He hadn't even considered what he was going to do after that. Could he make it all the way to Cheyenne on his own? Maybe not Cheyenne… but Lucy's farm wasn't too far. He'd try for there and hope it didn't get too dark for him to be able to find his way.

He turned and thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to listen. How long had Lan been gone? Too long - he would no doubt be back soon. Jess bent to pick up the rope in his numb hands, but nearly fainted when the movement stretched the skin on his back. His shoulder thumped against the wall of the overhang as he fell against it, trying to regain his senses.

The fever was disorienting to the point he wondered if he was beginning to hallucinate. Rustling bushes next to the pool nearly drove him into a panic. He stared at them in trepidation, too afraid to move. A rabbit leapt out, and he nearly collapsed in relief. He hated to admit to himself just how much that Lansing had gotten under his skin. Due to the fever, his rationality wasn't so great right now. It seemed that two people were arguing in his head. One was telling him to run, run, run! And the other was asking why he bothered, as he was going to end up in Cheyenne either way. There just was no point hiding anymore.

Jess made up his mind. He was going to make a run for it. He started to gather up the rope as best as he could, finally managing to get it wadded up in a loose ball by kneeling beside it and scraping with his bound hands. He picked it up in his elbows and toiled to get to his feet again.

Taking a moment to breathe, he turned around to leave and—

"Where you off to in such a big hurry, sonny boy?"

XXXXX

 **AAH! I have to admit I felt jumpy just writing this. Hopefully you're not reading this in the dark. Lansing gives me the creeps and I was the one who created him!**

 **Did anybody catch my reference to the episode "License to Kill"? I always thought that Jess' thinking on that episode (digging up a live tree with his spurs!) was so ridiculous. Anyway, I couldn't help using it when it popped into my head. Call it tired ramblings, maybe?**


	20. The Forest Has Eyes

**Man, I really left you all in the lurch last time. Sorry! (not sorry, probably) Here's the next part, and it's a real nail-biter, if I do say so myself!**

Chapter 20: The Forest Has Eyes

Lansing loomed over Jess like a figure from his worst nightmares. The waning light only added to his eerie appearance.

"Well?" the giant man asked, sounding almost like a father interrogating a child.

Jess stared back, refusing to be intimidated, but his body was slowly failing him. He clutched the rope tightly to his chest, his hands close to his collar.

"I asked you a question, boy," Lansing pressed. "I expect an answer."

Jess felt a wave of nausea pass over him, whether from the fever or fear of this insane individual, he did not know. Despite this, he held his ground, defiance overpowering any other feelings. He flicked his chin up with resolution, determined to show nothing else but courage. "You don't deserve one. I only respect folks who respect me."

Lan's eyes bulged in surprise before anger clouded over the initial shock. Jess had sadly come to recognize the warning signs and stepped back just in time to avoid a slap to the face. This only further angered Lan. Jess had nowhere to run as the large man slowly but surely herded Jess back under the overhanging rock.

"I knew I shouldn't have left you here all on your own," the so-called bounty hunter growled. "You just can't be trusted to do as you're told."

Any restraint left in Jess broke loose. "You're crazy! You think I'm a criminal! Why should a criminal do anything he's told? I saw a chance to escape, and I took it."

"Sonny," Lan warned, holding up a cautioning finger, "didn't you learn anything last time? You've got to learn to respect your betters. I'm gonna make you learn real good this time." Lansing slowly lowered his hand to his belt buckle. "Get down on your belly, sonny. I see that one whippin' weren't enough."

Jess felt the top of his head brush the roof of the tiny cave, signifying he had backed up as far as he could. A metallic taste filled his mouth, and he realized he had drawn blood the inside of his cheek; he had been biting it the entire time. "You ain't beatin' me with that again," he said, hating the fear in his voice.

Lan whipped his belt out from his pant loops and snapped it in the air. "Get down, or I'll throw you down. You'll learn your place before goin' to jail."

"You can't beat me like a little kid!" A small part of Jess wondered about the irrationality of arguing with this madman, but then Jess wasn't feeling too sane himself.

Jess darted to the side, trying one last desperate attempt at freedom. He yelled out when Lan easily snagged him by one arm and, using Jess' own momentum, swung him up against the rocks. Jess dropped, stars filling his vision, but he was not out for the count. Desperation filled his body, and he scrabbled for the opening on his elbows and knees. He had completely forgotten about the tether attached to his wrists, and nearly knocked himself out when Lan easily stomped down on the trailing rope. Jess was yanked head first into the rough stone surface when his arms were stopped short.

Through a dream-like haze, Jess felt Lan drag him back into the cave. He roused enough to kick and squirm, but a backhand across the mouth broke his last bit of determination. He lay like one already dead, waiting for Lan to finish what he started. It seemed as though the bounty meant nothing to this unstable individual; somewhere, sometime, this man had probably been similarly beaten, maybe by an authority figure. Perhaps this was the explanation with the obsession with respect and corporal punishment. Jess' natural tendency to mouth off those in authority probably exacerbated these feelings.

He watched through hazy eyes as Lan fetched his belt from where he had dropped it. With a sort of detachment, he wondered if this crazy person would be the last person he would ever see in this life.

Lan snapped the belt again, and the sharp sound brought Jess back to his senses. The strip of leather came whistling down, and Jess struggled to roll away. The belt clipped the edge of one shoulder, but didn't cause any real damage.

"No, take your lickin'!" Lan shouted, as though the command would actually mean something to a panic-filled individual. He grabbed at Jess, but only managed to snag a piece of shirt that tore free almost immediately.

Jess crawled on his side, using one elbow to pull himself. Lan tried to come closer, and Jess kicked out with his hard heels. Lan grunted as one boot caught his kneecap but kept on, pulling the belt through his hands. Jess scrambled onto one knee and raised his arms just in time to protect his face as Lan brought the leather down. The leather belt wrapped around one of Jess' arms near the wrist, and Jess could no longer hold back the scream of agony that had been bubbling below the surface since earlier in the day. The animal-like cry seemed to fuel Lansing's blood-lust, and he yanked the belt back again, swinging faster than the eye could track.

The blows fell mostly on Jess' arms and shoulders until they drove him down onto the rock. Jess rolled away, his stomach dropping out as he went tumbling off the rock table, hitting the ground with the expulsion of the air in his lungs. He resumed his awkward crawl, pressing himself harder than he thought he was able. A loud thump shook the ground under him. Lansing had jumped down to join him.

The clouds were breaking up, revealing the moon just as Jess managed to get to his feet. He tried to run, but felt the all-too familiar tug on the rope. He knew who was holding the other end, but it mattered not. Jess threw himself into fighting for his life, for to give in was to give up. He could move nowhere but side to side as Lan slowly gripped up on the rope, working his way toward Jess. Eventually, there was only a few feet's slack between the two, and with one final pull, Jess was brought to his knees. Lan's huge silhouette hung over him, the belt poised over his shoulder. The buckle hung on the loose end, heavy and jingling softly. "I spared you the metal this whole time, sonny-boy." Lan's voice was soft and dangerous. If Jess could have clearly seen the man's face, he knew he would see madness shining brightly. "I've been too easy on you. I'm done being nice. I think I'll chance collectin' the reward on a dead man."

Jess braced himself for the final blow…

XXXXX

 **Oh no! Jess is a goner for sure, huh?**


	21. A Watcher Revealed

**Okay, so hopefully you all don't think I'm too mean with that horrible cliff hanger. I just didn't have this chapter editted until now! It wasn't too much of a wait, though for Jess I imagine it felt like forever.**

 **And to whoever told me to take a vacation so I could finish... all in due time! Working for a school district does have its benefits, for sure!**

 **Back to the story...**

Chapter 21: A Watcher Revealed

Jess could only stare up at his shadowy figure. He could not move, he could not think. He could only wait. A single tear slipped from his eye, mingling with the sweat and blood on his cheek. Lan kicked Jess in the chest, sending him tumbling back. Lan pressed a boot into Jess' abdomen, pinning him where he lay. Jess stared up at him, his heart pumping so hard it was all he could hear.

The moonlight flickered off the dull metal of the buckle in an almost hypnotic manner as Lansing raised the belt one last time. Jess found he could not look away or close his eyes - he was going to face death with his eyes open.

Lan's arm started its descent, the deadly buckle swinging down in almost slow-motion. Jess held his breath. This was it.

 _Thump!_

Out of nowhere, a shadow flashed over Jess' head. A man-shaped figure stopped the belt's arc, hands braced under Lan's arm. The man's knees bent with the strain, then with a mighty heave, he threw Lan's arm up and away.

Jess could only lie in shock as the new figure grappled with Lansing, pushing him away from Jess' prone body. The two struggled, muffled thuds of fists in flesh and answering grunts carrying in the night air.

Jess propped himself up, trying to distinguish which one was Lansing and if he was winning or not.

The fight was over almost as soon as it started, with one figure delivering a roundhouse punch to the other, driving him to the ground. Jess watched in bated breath as the victor stood over the fallen, as though checking if the other was truly out or not.

The figure stooped and picked up something from the ground, raising it up stretched between both hands. A quiet jingling was heard.

 _"The belt! Lansing is the winner! NO!"_ Jess panicked. He scrambled to his feet and fled, tripping up the slope that ran down to the pool.

"Hey!" he heard but ignored as he struggled to make it to the top of the small crest. He had to get away! Someone had tried to save him, but had failed. He was on his own.

Jess ran as fast as he could in his state, but the rope, that ever-present, dadgummed rope got tangled around his feet. Jess was tripped up and fell full-length, unable to stop his fall.

"No, no, NO!" he shouted as he frantically fought the entanglement. Footsteps quickly trotted toward him, spurs jingling. Jess kicked his legs frantically, trying to get back up, yanking at the rope but only pulling it tighter around his ankles.

"Jess!"

"Get away from me, just get away!" A hand pressed onto his arm, but he shook it off with a shrieking "No!"

"It's me!"

"Yeah, it's you, back to finish what you started." Jess was almost maniacal now, ripping at the rope with all his strength. The hands were back, pressing him into the ground. He writhed, biting and snarling. "Let me go, you crazy son of a-"

"JESS! Calm down, it's me, Slim!"

Jess froze. "Slim?"

XXXXX

Slim had watched in astonishment as Jess cleared the depression and ran full tilt for the trees. Funny way to show appreciation. The lanky rancher quickly followed his friend into the shadowy trees.

Earlier, he had followed the tracks and had ducked behind a tree just in time to see the man who had taken Jess appear with a branch in hand. He had looked around, then started brushing the ground. Slim tied up Traveler and followed the man at a distance. He paused frequently so as not to be spotted, though in the pressing darkness that would have been difficult.

He was almost too late by the time he arrived to be able to vaguely make out the struggling figures by the pool. He watched as Jess tumbled off the stone table and struggled with his captor on the ground. Slim was afraid to shoot because it was so dark, so he did the best he could by running up to fight hand-to-hand.

Now, after defeating the madman that was trying to take his friend's life, he was chasing that same friend through the trees. Slim had been gaining easily, and following Jess was an easy task - he just located the sound of Jess' labored breathing and crashing through the trees as if he could not avoid running into them.

Then it had been Jess who caught himself when he tripped and fell. Slim struck a match from the waterproof case in his pocket and held it up near his face.

Jess' eyes glowed in the little fire-light, the fear and fight still blazing strong. He sat completely still, his entire body as taunt as a bowstring. "Easy, pard, you've had a rough time, huh?" He put his hand back on Jess' arm, feeling the muscles jump in response. He looked back up to see that Jess' eyes were glued to a spot just above Slim's shoulder, as though watching for someone, just as the match flickered out.

Slim didn't like the looks of this. He needed to get Jess warm and dry as fast as possible, as it was very possible that Jess was going into shock. "Come on, Jess, let's get going." He went to help Jess to his feet when he noticed what had caused Jess to fall in the first place. His hands tangled in a long rope that he blindly followed to Jess' arms. When he made contact where the rope was attached to Jess' wrists, the cowboy jerked his arms and hissed in obvious pain. "Sorry, sorry," Slim apologized, quickly pulling out his pocket knife. "Jess, I'm going to cut this rope off, but I'm going to leave your wrists alone for now. I don't want to hurt them any more than they already are."

He snapped the knife open and grasped the rope in one hand about an arm's length from Jess' wrists. He figured Jess had been tied for some time and that his wrists were raw, so it would be best to saw at the coarse rope a little distance down. This way there would be minimal jerking motions as he cut.

He quickly sliced the majority of the rope away, and stood to pull the rope free from where it had tangled in Jess' legs. As soon as he had done this, he went to help Jess up. However, Jess was already scrambling to his feet. Slim shrugged internally. "You think you can walk back to where we were before? We ought to tie up that man."

"Lan," Jess' gravelly voice croaked. "His name is Lansing. He… he isn't all there."

That little comment at the end seemed to speak volumes, and Slim knew that getting to the bottom of all of this would be like trying to dig a well with a teaspoon. Jess could clam up tighter than anyone Slim had ever known.

Slim grabbed up the rope and coiled it up sloppily. "Make good use of this…," he commented somewhat to himself. If he could have seen in the darkness, he would have been saddened by the haunted gleam in Jess' eyes.

XXXXX

Slim left Jess under the same rocky overhang to retrieve Traveler after having tied the man Lansing up. He came back in time to hear Jess screaming, "Shut your mouth, shut your stinkin' mouth!"

Apparently the insane man had gained consciousness, as Lansing was laughing from the ground. "You learned real good, sonny. You'll never forget the lessons you learned from me."

Slim quickly rushed forward, bandanna at the ready. He cinched the material around the prisoner's mouth, not even sure what he was stopping the man from saying. He quickly lit another match, grief hitting him like a punch to the stomach when he saw Jess sitting backed up as far as he could in the cave, his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Hey pard," he said soothingly. "I got the lantern from your saddle. It was real nice of you to pack one." He pulled out the small miner's lantern that Jess must've packed when he left Laramie that first fateful day. He pushed the dying match inside, lighting the candle within its tin frame. He carried the small light into the cave, pocket knife already unfolded. "Let's get you free, huh?"

"Sounds good," Jess commented, his voice hoarse. He extended his arms, and Slim almost recoiled from away. Jess' hands were purple in the dim light, at least what skin was visible. Blood was smeared up and down Jess' arms in red and brown streaks. "Holy smokes," Slim breathed.

Jess was staring as well. "Not so pretty, I guess."

 _"That's putting it lightly,"_ Slim thought to himself. He placed Jess' elbows on Jess' knees, leaving the wrists extended. "This'll hurt some." He put the knife against the rawhide strips and gently drew it back and forth. The first layer snapped free with a pop. The strips had gotten wet, and therefore shrunk into Jess' flesh. Slim was struck with a horrible fear - were they too late? Jess' hands hadn't had circulation for a while now. Would they recover?

With each layer cut, Jess' let out a small groan. Fresh blood welled and dropped to the floor as the circulation was able to flow again. The final layer had to be carefully peeled away, and Slim was positive some skin came with it.

Jess gave a mighty shudder and sigh and leaned his head back against the wall. His arms moved slightly side to side, rolling at the elbow. "Pretty stiff," was all he said.

Slim took Jess' right hand in his own and manipulated the fingers, folding them and stretching them out repeatedly and slowly. He watched with bated breath, praying for a miracle.

Jess gasped suddenly and jerked his hand back. "Hurts," he grunted.

"Pins and needles?" Slim asked in what he hoped was a light tone.

Jess nodded curtly and kept his eyes closed.

Slim quickly snagged the hand back, massaging it and the arm above it. Peering at it in the dim light, he nearly cried out in joy. Jess' hand was visibly filling with blood, changing from purple to a healthy pink.

"Jess, try and move your fingers on your own."

Jess' fingers twitched, then bunched to a fist, which immediately sprung open afterward. "Dadgum," he groaned. "That feels horrible."

Slim laughed a little. "Better to feel horrible than to feel nothing at all."

Jess opened one eye, a tiny smirk on one corner of his mouth.

Slim felt relief grow. They would be all right.

XXXXX

They wandered through the dark trees, Jess wrapped in a blanket and hunched over on his beloved Traveler, and Slim walking in front, prodding Lansing ahead. The stumbled upon the main road, and with Jess' direction, eventually made it into a farm yard.

Lights were shining brightly in the house, as was a lantern hanging next to the door to the barn. Slim saw several horses standing tied and recognized his own Alamo.

The front door burst open and Wayne trotted out. He was halfway down the steps when he noticed the bedraggled group standing in front of him. "Slim! Is that Jess?"

"What's left of him," Jess drawled with only a hint of sarcasm.

"I was just about to come out looking for you. It got too dark to follow your tracks through the trees. I figured I come here to Lucy's and get some lanterns, and well, to settle Fred in. Let's have your man join him, shall we?"

Slim pushed the large man forward a step. "Have him, and welcome. I'd like to get Jess cleaned up and in bed."

Jess protested Slim's proclamation. "I'm not a baby, thank you very much." He started to dismount, but his knees gave out when his feet touched the ground.

Slim rushed to his side, but Jess pushed him away. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I'll just tuck myself in." He started to shuffle toward a small cabin when he stopped and turned. "Wayne, did Lucy make it alright?"

"She sure did," Wayne beamed, "all thanks to you. She worried after you something terrible, but her pa told me that she finally lost the fight with exhaustion. She's dead asleep, as is Jeremy."

Jess nodded, and his shoulders lifted a touch. A heavy burden had been released. "I reckon I'll see them in the morning. I think I'd like to get a little sleep myself."

"You deserve it," Wayne said warmly. "I'll take all of you into town in the morning, let the doctor check you over."

Jess waved a hand in dismissal, shooing the lawman away. Slim followed Jess to the cabin, the small candle-lit lantern still dangling from one hand, Jess' saddlebags in the other.

They went into the small cabin. Slim spied an oil lamp on the table and promptly lit it. "Let's get you into something dry, pard." Jess didn't answer, so Slim turned to see what his friend was doing. "Jess?"

Jess was sprawled on his stomach across a bunk, the blanket still tightly wrapped around him. Small snores wafted in the air; the man was out to the world.

Slim smiled a touch and carefully pulled off Jess' muddy boots and fetched several more blankets. He gently rolled Jess onto his back to remove Jess' soaking wet jeans. Jess moaned in his sleep at the movement, a grimace stretching the skin on his face. Slim got the jeans off as quickly as possible, then figured the rest of Jess' clothes were dry enough to wait until tomorrow. He placed the extra blankets onto his friend's legs before finding a basin of water. He painstakingly washed Jess' wrists, then wrapped them in loose bandages he had fashioned from some towels next to the wash stand. These would also keep until the doctor could care for them, first thing in the morning. Slim tucked in his best friend, so thankful that he was safe at last.

XXXXX

 **Awww! Sleeping Jess is so cute. Phew! Safe at last?**


	22. I'm Fine

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry for the delay. I went on a short trip last weekend, and then I got a crazy notion to paint my living room, so that's what I've been doing every evening after work. I hope you'll forgive me. Thanks for sticking it out with me!

Is Jess going to get some TLC? I hope so. Writing this story makes me tired and cold - like Jess and the other folks must feel.

Enjoy! I will try to be more timely for the next chapter. It is being edited as we speak.

Chapter 22: I'm Fine

Slim woke the next morning as the grey dawn was just making its appearance. He checked on Jess, who was still dead to the world. He listened to his friend's breathing, not liking the heavy coughs that sounded occasionally. He would give his friend a couple more minutes' sleep while he enquired about a wagon. Jess needed to see a doctor, and very soon. A bit of guilt settled into Slim's stomach. "I should have taken him in last night," he thought grimly, "but he looked so exhausted. I guess I should have woken him back up."

He shook off the dismal musing, knowing there was nothing he could do about it now. Slim dressed, then went outside to find that Wayne was already up and about, hitching up a large buckboard. Slim went to help, asking, "Don't you ever sleep?"

Wayne grinned. "Got things to do. Jess doing ok? He looked rough last night."

"He's been coughing a bit, and his breathing doesn't sound so good; he might have picked up something out on the trail. He needs to be checked out at the doctor's. His wrists are in terrible shape." He shook his blond head. "I'm kicking myself about not taking him in last night. But knowing him, he'd probably thrown a huge fuss."

"Talking about me?" a dry, tired voice said.

They both turned to see the haggard, dirty form that was Jess Harper. He stood leaning against a hitching post nonchalantly, as though it was any other day, not the day after he'd been rescued. He was wearing a different shirt and his jacket, which had been in his saddlebags. His wrists were still wrapped in the towels Slim had used the night before; red-brown stains showed on the white material. Blood and dirt were smeared on his face, like he'd tried to wash it but had given up.

Overall, he looked horrible. His shirt was untucked, and his hair was going everywhere. The sight of the crazy hair made Slim remember what he had found. He went to the barn and found his own saddle and got something from the provisions bag. He brought it back out, pleased at the way Jess' face brightened the smallest degree at the sight of his trusty black hat. He put it down upon his unruly waves, and looked much more like himself.

Wayne finished with the horses. "Ready to head to town? Mr. Turner already took Lucy and Jeremy in to get checked out. He helped me load up the poor unfortunates before he left." He was referring to Fitz and Reynolds, who Lansing had killed the night before.

Slim and Wayne loaded Lansing and Fred Ames into the wagon as well. Fred looked absolutely ill, but Lansing seemed unfazed by it all. He smiled broadly at Jess, who blinked slowly before turning his face away. Slim wondered about the interaction, but said nothing. This man had some horrible affect over Jess, and Slim hoped that it could all be over soon. Jess needed to go home.

Jess carefully climbed into the seat of the wagon, as though one wrong move would send him toppling. A sheen of perspiration showed despite the early morning coolness, and he wiped his upper lip. Slim noted with additional concern that Jess' eyes glowed with what had to be the same fever from the day before.

"We'll get you to the doc, Pard," Slim found himself saying, almost to reassure himself.

"I'm fine," Jess growled, a statement Slim expected.

Slim gave him one last look before walking around to the back of the wagon. Wayne climbed up next to Jess to drive, and Slim situated himself in the rear to guard the prisoners.

XXXXX

The drive to town was mostly uneventful. They pulled up in front of the doctor's office, and Jess slowly climbed down. He braced his hands against the wagon for a moment, his head hanging slightly. Then he slowly straightened up, his face pale.

"Get yourself checked out," Slim commanded. "I'm going to help Wayne get these guys stowed. I'll be back to check up on you."

Jess rolled his eyes. "Sure, Pa."

Wayne waved a hand dismissively. "I can handle these jaspers. Go ahead, Slim."

"Alright, if you think so," Slim said, jumping down.

"See ya later, sonny boy," Lansing called, and Slim's heart fell to watch Jess shrink further into himself. His best friend turned toward the doctor's door, Slim following.

The doctor looked as though he was waiting for them. "Ms. Turner and her son were already here," he announced dryly, like he knew plenty but didn't feel like going into detail. At his direction, Jess sat on the edge of the examination table. "Alright, Mr. Harper. Take off that jacket and shirt."

Jess gripped the front collar of his jacket tightly. "No, thanks. I'm cold." He coughed loudly, then smeared his sleeve against his mouth.

The doctor frowned. "Your friend can stoke up the fire. Now get out of that jacket and shirt."

Jess set his jaw. "Just fix up my arms, doc. That's all I need."

"That cough of yours says otherwise. I need you to take off your shirt so I can use this." He held up his stethoscope.

Slim butted in. "What's the deal, Jess? Just let the doc do his job."

"I don't have to do anything. I'll be fine."

The doctor shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way." After putting the stethoscope's earpieces into his ears, he came up behind Jess and pushed a hand up inside the back of Jess' shirt. Jess yelped and twisted away.

"Jess, there's something else wrong, isn't there." Slim wasn't really asking.

"There's nothin' wrong. Just don't like people touchin' me, is all."

Slim came to stand in front of Jess and crossed his arms severely. "Jess, take off that shirt or I'll take it off for you."

"Be my guest," Jess snarled. "Just treat me like everybody else and do what you like. I don't have much choice, do I?"

The doctor joined Slim. "Mr. Harper," he sternly intoned. "I know what's wrong with your back. There's no point in hiding it."

Jess looked from face to face, stubbornness etched in every feature. "Yeah, and what do you know about it?"

"Lucy told me," the doctor confessed.

Shame colored Jess' cheeks. "Oh she did, did she? That's just great."

Slim felt horribly in the dark. "Jess, it's alright. You're with friends here. What happened?"

Jess refused to answer the question, but simply stared down and murmured, "I don't need any help. I'll be fine."

The doctor tried to look sympathetic. "How about you let me be the judge of that?"

Slim watched as Jess finally gave a small, tragic nod.

The doctor wasted no time in getting Jess out of his jacket, but had more difficulty with the shirt. "Tell me if it's too much," he stated.

Finally, Slim's curiosity got the better of him. He leaned slightly to the side to watch as the doctor slowly pulled Jess' shirt off his shoulders. Sorrow struck Slim like a physical blow as he saw the distinct welts and bruises of a belt. "Oh, Jess…," he moaned. "What…"

"What happened? I was disrespectful, had to be taught a lesson, that's what happened." He looked down, swallowing hard. "That's why it always happened."

"Jess, I'm sorry. I wasn't asking—"

"I don't need sympathy." Jess glared at his boss. "And that's why I like to keep things to myself."

"There's no need…"

"Just let it go, Slim."

The doctor cut into the awkward conversation. "I'm going to wash these out with antiseptic. It'll sting some, but it'll fight infection from setting in."

Jess set his hands on the edge of the table. "Do whatever you need, Doc. It can't hurt more than it already does."

The doctor smiled humorlessly. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

Seventeen muffled curses and twenty-three stitches later, Jess' back was clean and bandaged. The doctor went after Jess' wrists next. "Any decreased feeling?" the doctor asked.

"Not that I can tell," Jess answered. He looked slightly nervous.

"Hm, I expect they'll be fine. They'll take a long time to heal." He cleaned out the wounds and packed them with a thin layer of cotton doused in antiseptic. He finished by wrapping them with long strips of linen. "Let them air out once in a while, but for heaven's sake, keep them clean!"

"What about workin'?" Jess questioned, concerned.

The doctor looked up at Slim. "I expect you could probably get some time off."

Jess didn't seem pleased at the prospect, but said nothing.

The doctor completed his examination with listening to Jess' lungs. He pulled the stethoscope from his ears and gathered objects from a medicine cabinet standing close by, explaining as he went. "You have a mild case of pneumonia. Get plenty of rest and drink as much as you can. You can put mustard poultices on your chest to help clear your lungs, and I also have some cough medicine. This bottle is to clean the wounds, and this one is a willow bark extract that will help with the pain." He put the bottles, plus a bundle of cotton and bandages, into a small bag and then handed it over to Slim. "Pneumonia is not something you can just walk off. It can get worse faster than we can heal it. You could scar your lungs or worse." He turned his attention over to Slim. "Try to get his fever down as soon as possible. I would let him stay here to recover, but I imagine the hotel will be more comfortable. Make sure he follows my instructions."

"I will," Slim assured, and helped Jess back into his shirt, despite Jess' dagger glares.

They left the office, Jess setting off alone like Slim wasn't there. Finally, Slim chased him down. Jess was still pretty fast, despite the condition he was in. "Jess, let's head over to the hotel. You heard the doctor. You need to be in bed."

Jess didn't respond to Slim's demands, but instead ducked inside the first saloon they came to. Slim threw his hand up in the air in exasperation and followed. Jess was speaking to the bartender, who was given Jess a look somewhere between curiosity and concern. Jess accepted a full shot from the man and threw it back. He started coughing harshly, but put the glass back toward the bottle.

Slim came up beside his friend, who was arguing with the thin man behind the bar. "Give me another, I said."

"Listen, friend, you look like you've had a rough night already. Just go home and sleep it off."

Jess reached over faster than Slim could stop him, and grabbed the bartender's shirt front. "I – am – fine," the young cowboy ground out. "Now give me a drink, or I'll –"

Slim put his hand on Jess' shoulder. "Jess, hold it. You don't need to do that, not today. Just leave it."

Jess glared for a moment longer before releasing his hold. He turned away, but teetered a touch as he walked toward a chair. He sat down near the door.

The bartender straightened his shirt. "He okay?"

"He will be," Slim answered. "Sorry he got rough. He's had a rough time lately. Could we have a pot of coffee?"

He was directed toward a potbelly stove where a metal pot sat steaming, several cups sitting nearby.

Slim gathered two cups and filled them before joining Jess at the table. Jess perked at the sight of his favorite beverage, sitting up a little straighter with anticipation. He chugged the dark brew, probably scalding his tongue in the process. Slim grimaced, but he knew how much Jess loved coffee. The disregard for the boiling temperature was nothing new.

Slim was testing his own cup with tentative sips when Jess suddenly spoke. "It's just…just so shameful, you know?"

Slim hastily put down his drink. "What is?"

"My gettin'… just gettin' beat by a… by a man's belt. Like I was a kid or somethin'." He rubbed at his nose a moment.

"It wasn't the first time, was it?"

Jess rolled his empty cup around, watching the last few dregs slide back and forth. "Naw, my pa, he used to beat on me all the time. I prob'ly deserved it, though. I had a bad mouth. I could get real smart with him sometimes." Jess' eyes wandered to the ceiling. "I was real disrespectful to Lan, too. I spit on his face." He let out a large shuddering sigh. "It was an accident, but he just… he just lost it. They stretched me out, and… and…"

"Jess," Slim said firmly, "that Lansing character was insane. I could see that. You can't blame yourself for what happened. He had no right to beat you."

"I know… I try to keep telling myself that. It just shakes a man to the core, ya know?" His shoulders twitched in tension. "That Lan, he'll… He'll be with me a long time, I reckon."

"Wayne knew this Lansing character from wanted posters. He's going away for a long time, if not getting hung. He's was wanted for some other crimes."

"Like what?"

"He, uh, beat another cowboy to death when they were droving together. Thought the man was making fun of him."

Jess shrugged off a small shiver. "I was next, I guess, if it hadn't been for you."

"You've got me, pard, whether you like it or not. I'm with you through thick and thin."

"If you're the 'thin', then I guess that makes me the 'thick'?"

"Yeah, thick-headed."

Jess flicked the dregs out at Slim's nose with unerring accuracy. Slim smiled as he wiped the moisture from his face. Jess would manage. He always did.


	23. Memories Not Worth Remembering

**Once again, I have fallen prey to life's arduous challenges. My husband finished his college coursework for the semester and has decided to tear apart our bathroom. *sigh* Looks like he could use some help. Work has also been pretty heavy lately. I so wanted this story to be done by now! Thanks for all your indefinite patience. You're all so great!**

Chapter 23: Memories Not Worth Remembering

Slim had procured a hotel room soon after they had coffee in the saloon. The tall rancher was doing his best to make sure Jess was situated. "Have some of this willow bark...stuff," Slim said, a frown creasing his brow as he read the bottle's label.

"Prob'ly some kind of snake oil," Jess groused.

"I don't know, Jess. I've heard of using willow bark for ailments. Seems like something the old timers would talk about."

"Whatever you say." Jess struggled to remove his boots.

"Jess, don't you dare," Slim scolded. "You'll pull out stitches. Let me." Slim pushed Jess' hands away and yanked a boot off in one deft movement. The other followed in quick succession.

Jess gaped up at his friend. "You have some kinda experience bein' a nurse I don't know about?"

Slim rolled his eyes. "Just from patching you up , Pard. Now let me help you shuck outta the rest of your clothes."

Jess stiffened. "No thank you."

"Jess, who do you think got your pants off you last night?"

Jess' eyebrow quirked upward in its signature way. "Shoulda known. Fine, but I can handle my own belt."

Soon Jess was dressed only in his shorts and tucked into bed. Slim gave the wiry Texan a spoonful of the willow bark medicine.

"Yuck." Jess stuck his tongue out as he smacked his mouth open and closed. "That's awful."

"That means it'll work," Slim laughed. "Try and get some sleep. You're still fevered, I reckon."

"Nah, I'm…"

"You're fine, I know." Slim snapped the curtains closed. "I better not come back to find you up and around. I'm going down to check on things with Wayne, and send word to Jonesy and Andy that we managed to save your sorry hide before it was too late. They're probably going out of their heads wondering what happened to all of us."

Slim's broad shoulders disappeared through the door, which he shut with a quiet click.

Jess squirmed slightly in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but this proved to be an impossible task. Everything ached, throbbed, or was just a plain bother. He wished he had a big bottle of red eye. That would put him in a more pleasant state of mind, he was sure.

Time clicked by slowly on the small clock on the dresser. Jess could discern the noises on the street, but nothing distinct. Jess' eyes felt incredibly gritty, like he had been out in the desert for days on end. He needed sleep, sweet healing rest - but this was not to be found. He just couldn't seem to be able to keep his mind quiet.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he would see Lansing's face glowing like some specter from his nightmares. Never in Jess' short but eventful life had he encountered such an unpredictable person, save Roany Bishop. " _Why do these types of people seem to always find me?_ " Jess wondered. Maybe it was one of those old rules - crazy finds crazy, or something like that. Jess was sure he wasn't too sane himself, at least that was Slim liked to tease him about.

Jess tried to redirect his mind toward something more pleasant… like Lucy. Thank goodness she and Jeremy were safe now. He wished he could personally go and see them himself. He felt as though he needed to actually see with his own eyes that they were out of danger. He would have to be content with Slim's and Wayne's word for now.

A pang struck his heart strings, and he wondered where the sorrowful feeling had come from. He mulled over what he had just been considering and realized that he was feeling a bit of forlornness about the loss of Lucy. They would surely get their marriage annulled within the next few days. Jess resolutely forced his mind to not dwell on grief. " _This is what is best for her_ ," he reasoned with himself. " _Let her go."_

His eyes fluttered closed as he daydreamed about riding Traveler back home, to the ranch. The first thing he would do would be to play a round of checkers with Andy… or take the boy fishing. Yes, that would be perfect.

He drifted off with warm memories of sunshine and frogs chirping, and the laughter of a happier time.

XXXXX

Wayne was dozing in his desk chair, a half-drank cup of coffee cooling in front of him when Slim walked into the law office. Wayne jumped to attention, blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Ah-ha," Slim said triumphantly. "So you do sleep."

Wayne rubbed a hand over his chin. "Ya caught me. The prisoners are safely stowed in the back, so I thought I'd get a few winks before the storm busted loose."

"Sorry to disturb you."

"No, it's fine. I'll get plenty of sleep in the hereafter. Get Jess tucked away?"

"For now." Slim swung a leg over a chair and sat. "He's like trying to pin down the wind."

"I believe it. He seemed pretty banged up, though. He gonna be okay, ya think?"

"I hope so. It's so hard to tell with Jess. He's got a heavy load to carry here" - Slim pointed to his temple - "and he sure didn't need something more to add to that. But he's a strong man. Haven't known many stronger, come to think of it."

Wayne rolled a pencil in his fingers. "Lucy told me a little about what happened. That Lansing fellow sounds like a regular wide-eyed loco."

"Yeah, he reminds me of somebody else Jess knew, back when I first hired Jess. Jess tried to handle this crazy guy, but that man ended up getting killed while he was trying to kill Jess."

Wayne shook his head. "Well, I suppose that was a little comforting for Jess, that he knew that man couldn't bother him anymore."

"Who knows what goes on in that head. Sometimes he just gets this look about him, something I've only seen in the faces of soldiers during the war - like he's somewhere else, somewhere bad."

The deputy got a far-off look on his own face. "I think I know what you mean. We all have things that make a man quiet."

"Sure, I've got my times too. I like to think I've left all that behind me," the rancher said, even as images flashed in his mind's eye of cannon fire blasting into the line, destroying men's bodies. He blinked hard. "But it sure can sneak back up on ya sometimes."

Wayne slapped his knees with his hands, breaking the heavy mood. "Well, that was a lovely topic to chew on."

Slim gave a half-smile. "Well, a little better news then? I heard that Judge Sanders is being sent away?"

"Yes, he's being sent to D.C. eventually, but for now he's being placed on indefinite leave from legal duties. Mr. Worthington will preside over any trials until a permanent replacement can be made."

"What do they expect to happen to him?"

"Nothing is certain," Wayne explained, "but Mr. Worthington doesn't think he'll serve time. Stripping him of his law license will be a severe enough punishment. It must be remembered that the only dark spots on his record was that incident with the lynchers and Jess' case. Overall, he's been a decent judge."

"It's hard for me to be impartial," Slim sadly confessed, "as it was my best friend who nearly died from the judge's ruling."

"Believe me, I struggle with the same thoughts. But if this fiasco made me see one thing, it's that I need to get my act together and live in the moment. I should have married Lucy a long time ago, instead of putting it off for reasons too flimsy to mention."

"The annulment will be good to go, then?"

"It should be, at least that's what I'm told."

Slim smiled, though with a small flavor of bittersweet. He knew of Jess' inner struggle, the struggle of every single man. "Congratulations."

Wayne nervously twirled the pencil on the desktop. "Don't say that, you might jinx me! She hasn't said yes yet!"

XXXXX

Later that afternoon, a small tapping noise roused Jess from a delightful sleep. The willow bark did the trick, and he was able to have a relatively pain-free rest. He squinted in confusion, wondering what was going on. Sweat was rolling from his body, and the blankets felt sodden with perspiration. He put a hand to his forehead, surprised to feel it clammy but cool. He must have sweat out his fever, at least for now.

The tapping sound was heard again, and Jess realized that somebody was outside his door.

"Who is it?" he croaked, surprised to find his voice nearly gone. He wondered if he had coughed in his sleep.

"Guess who," a female's voice replied.

His heart leapt. "Lucy?"

"Who else! Can I come in?"

"Sure!" he exclaimed before embarrassment took hold. He quickly pulled the blankets up high.

Strawberry blonde hair was what he saw first as she peeked through the door. Evidently she was also worried about bursting in on a man in bed. Seeing that he was covered, she rushed in, Jeremy on one hip.

"Jess, oh dear Jess!" she exclaimed. She stopped short a moment. "You look horrible."

"Thanks a lot!" Jess exclaimed.

Her hand pressed into his forehead. "Fever's broken! That's wonderful. How do you feel?"

Jess cleared his throat. "Ran through the wringer."

She put Jeremy on the bed next to Jess. "Let me get you some water."

"Lucy, you don't need to fuss-"

"No, Jess." She cut him off firmly. "I need to… I need to…" She choked back a sob. " _I need to do this_ ," she finally managed to squeeze out.

Jess struggled to sit up further. "Lucy, you don't owe me anything."

She put a glass of water in his hand. "Don't you say that. I owe you _everything_. Now, we've already been over this. Let me help you, please."

Jess thought a moment, then nodded. He could swallow his pride if it meant this much to Lucy. Everyone healed in different ways.

"You and Jeremy made it to the farm okay, I guess," Jess assumed a little later.

She nodded. "We almost ran right into those two other men. I heard about what happened to them. Terrible…" She paused for a moment. "Anyway, we made it in. I took Jeremy in and got him warmed up. He's doing fine now, thanks to you. I don't know what would have could have happened to us if we had still been with you when Lansing started shooting."

"That's somethin' that's best not to think about."

Her face was grim. "Yes, I suppose so. That's easier said than done, right?"

"I know."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm sure you do, better than me." Her eyes were full of discernment. "I would have done anything to stop what that madman did to you. It was just crazy, out of control…"

"People like that can't be reasoned with, I reckon. Somethin's broken in their heads. There was nothin' you coulda done different," he comforted. "Always remember that."

"I'll try."

Nothing that could have been done differently… Could Jess believe that himself?

XXXXX

Slim eased the hotel room door open later that day, peeping in to see if Jess was asleep. He was not.

"Hey, Pard," the blond rancher greeted.

Jess glanced up from a bowl sitting on a tray across his lap. "Hey," he answered, voice very rough.

Slim gestured toward the tray. "Lucy's been by, huh?"

"Yeah, earlier." Jess leaned back against the pillows, irony in his eyes. "But this is from Meg."

Slim cocked his head. "I miss something?"

Jess pushed the tray down his legs a touch. "You know me and women, Pard. I win 'em over eventually."

"Oh, yeah. That I know. It's your puppy-dog quality. The fair folk just can't resist."

Jess laughed a bit, but the laugh turned to coughs. Slim grabbed the tray before it was knocked from Jess' knees. Jess hunched forward, heaving with deep, lung wrenching sounds. He pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, trying to stifle himself it almost seemed. Finally, Jess' coughing eased, and he dropped back exhausted.

Slim reached for the cough medicine bottle, pouring out a generous dose into an empty cup. "Drink this, now," he commanded. Jess laid down the handkerchief to accept the cup, and Slim was dismayed to see sputum staining the pale-colored fabric, and even more worried when the fluid was slightly pink in color. Jess gulped down the medicine, coughing a bit more before settling down. He rubbed his mouth with the bandage around his arm, discoloring the white linen there as well. He looked down at it in amazement. "What's…," he heaved for air for a moment… "that?"

Slim quickly stoked the fire in the hearth, thankful there were still embers. "Your body's trying to get the fluid from your lungs. I haven't seen many folks with pneumonia, but usually it's in people who are weakened from other illnesses and apparently they can't swallow their own spit very well. At least, that's what I've read before." He turned back to his friend, taking in the confused face.

"I swallow spit fine," he said as though it was a ridiculous assumption.

"Sometimes people get it from almost drowning," Slim added, his memory recalling the medical journal some traveller left by accident at the relay station.

Jess' mouth closed tightly before looking away. Slim knew the face well, as it was Jess' trademark I'm-hiding-something-from-you face. "Jess, what happened?"

"Don't matter now, does it? I've got pneu-mon-i-a or whatever it's called. Let's leave it alone."

Slim crossed his arms, fed up. "Jess! Why is everything like pulling teeth with you? It's like you want to keep things a secret or something? Why? Why is it so hard for you to just tell me things?"

Jess' jaw muscles bulged in anger. "Maybe I don't think it's anybody's business."

"You know, I could just go ask Lucy. She's over at Meg's right now. I bet she'll tell me the whole story without making a big deal about it."

"Slim, don't, just…" He leaned it back into a pillow and shut his eyes. Slim instantly felt guilt growing. Why was he hounding Jess about this when the man was in obviously poor health? It had just popped out, this mounting frustration at his closed-mouth friend.

Slim was about to apologize when Jess held up a bandaged hand. "Don't you say you're sorry, Slim. I know that's what you were gonna say next."

The rancher sighed. "You know me too well, Pard." He sat down in the chair beside Jess' bed.

"I know you're just worried 'bout me," Jess whispered in his dry voice. "Don't need to be. I know you think that I've come down a hard road. Sure, that's true, and we both know we're not just talkin' 'bout the last few days. Life ain't been too kind to poor ol' me. But that's why I don't wanna talk most times 'bout what's happened to me. I don't wanna bring up the past, because that's where it belongs. I don't want to remember some of them things, sure, but mostly I don't want nobody feelin' sorry for me." His eyes opened just a tiny slit, but they penetrated Slim to the core. "'Specially you, Slim. Don't you be feelin' sorry for me. We've all had our downs and hard times, so my problems don't make me no dif'rent than anybody else out there. You've had things happen to you, same as me. But I don't ask, 'cause I figger if you wanted to talk 'bout 'em, you would." He sighed a moment. "Fred Ames drug me in the river, and I swallowed a bucket or two." His eyes drifted back to Slim's face. "There, did that make things any dif'rent? Not really, I'm still sicker'n than a drunk on Sunday mornin'. But now you're feelin' even more sorry for me, if that'd even be somethin' that could be done."

Slim sat in dumb silence, muted by Jess' flabbergasting speech. It all suddenly made sense, in a tragic sort of way. Jess didn't have many people treat him kindly in his life, so naturally any sympathy expressed toward the young man was accepted as simpering pity. Poor, poor orphan boy, forced into a life of violence to survive. Slim could imagine the whispers Jess might have overheard, and suddenly he was overwhelmingly grateful for his own mostly solid upbringing. He looked his best pal straight in the eye. "Everyone has their secrets, Jess, but are there any more secrets that could help your recovery? Any more incidences I should know about?"

"No more, I swear," Jess said with honesty.

"Alright then," Slim nodded. "No more questions… for now."

XXXXX

 **Things will get settled pretty soon! This story is getting close to its conclusion - but a little more action before the end! Thanks again to everyone who is still reading this. I have been so bad lately about updating. The next chapter is almost ready to be published. Have a nice evening!**


	24. Back to Life

**Hi everyone! Just a note - I don't claim to know much about the legal system, especially that in the 1800s. Please don't judge me on that note! Of course, if you have any tips, I would appreciate them.**

 **The end is near! Thanks for sticking with me this far.**

Chapter 24: Back to Life

A few days passed before Slim would allow himself to admit that the convalescing Jess was about to drive the rancher insane. Jess complained constantly about not being allowed to go outside, about having to stay in bed, about the food, anything and everything. Slim was secretly glad of Jess' protestations, as it meant that he really was beginning to feel better, but it sure made the days trying ones. However, it was a welcome change from the first day or so, as Jess did not raise a fuss when told to sleep or accept cough medicine, which made a larger testament to his illness than anything else.

Now, after the latest visit from the doctor, Jess was cleared for light exercise. This meant that he could leave the hotel room and see to any matters that he wished, so long as it didn't require him to be out in cool air.

Slim and Jess headed to Meg's restaurant first for what Jess called, "sittin' down food." Meg burst out of the kitchen upon seeing Jess enter the building. "Jess, boy," she boomed, bringing a wince from Jess. "Sit you down right now."

Jess eased himself into the same chair he had used some time ago. He glanced up uneasily at the large woman. "Uh, hello, Meg. Thanks for keeping me fed lately."

She rested a muscular hand on his shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Son, it's the least I could do for you. I'm sorry for how I treated you before all this happened. You kept my Lucy safe, and that's all that matters."

Jess nodded, and that was all the woman wanted. She trooped away with the promise of some steak and potatoes.

Slim watched in confusion. "There's a story behind you and that lady, but I'm afraid to ask."

Jess grinned, the gap in between his front teeth showing. Slim realized with a shock that it was the first real smile he had seen on the younger man's face since his rescue. It was good to have the old Jess back.

The door opened behind them, the bell jingling. It was Lucy, Jeremy, and Wayne Grant. Lucy was overjoyed to see Jess, and managed to embrace him without touching his back, something Jess greatly appreciated. Wayne stood by, watching without jealousy. The gratitude for helping his love would never be forgotten.

They all enjoyed a lunch together, but the thought of what could take place later that day hung over their happiness like a gathering storm.

XXXXX

Mr. Worthington was a stately looking man in his 40s, Jess guessed. He had an easy manner about him, exuding confidence that overflowed into the people around him. He slowly and carefully asked questions about the events that occurred, and despite the unpleasantness of the memories associated with the whole situation, Jess found it very easy to talk to this man.

Mr. Worthington wrote down some notes, and then filled out some forms in silence. Then he laid everything that he had completed in front of Jess, pointing at important parts and making sure everything was clear. Jess listened in great relief as his case was taken apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. He was free and clear.

"I understand you would care for an annulment from the young lady in question," Mr. Worthington finished.

"Yes," Jess said, though his heart was on his sleeve. It was not an easy admission.

"Just sign here, then. I've already drawn up the papers."

Jess lifted his arm and grasped the pen, slowly drawing it across the line in a sloppy signature. He had a hard time moving his hand because of the bandages, but he made it.

Mr. Worthington strode across the room and opened a door. The small Turner family stepped in solemnly, not unlike the time previous when this disastrous marriage had first been brought to fruition. Lucy, after hearing the results of Jess' arraignment, signed the document as well. She blinked back tears, but her trembling smile held relief. Her father stood behind her, face grim, but he raised no protest.

"Looks like it's all over," Jess huffed, feeling light-headed for some reason.

"Almost," Mr. Worthington. "It would be most beneficial if you could testify against the prisoners."

Lucy looked aghast. "Hasn't he been through enough? Hasn't everyone?"

"It's all just a formality. It will ensure justice is served, once and for all."

"Fine...fine," Jess reluctantly agreed.

XXXXX

The defense attorney looked bored, Slim observed. According to Jess, the attorney was hired as mandated, but he knew this was an open and closed case. As said before, this was just a formality.

Jess was sitting rigidly, careful to not lean against the back of his chair. He was pale, and coughed frequently into a blue handkerchief. However, his coughs were not as loud or deep as before. Physically, he was mending. Psychologically… it was dubious if that type of healing would take place until they could all go home.

The entire situation was laid out, first the case against Fred, starting way back with his assault against Lucy and his perjury against Jess.

Lucy relayed her side of the story in a quavering voice, but she made it through without leaving anything out. She left the witness stand shaky but with a proud set to her shoulders. Jess met her eye and winked as they passed each other on the floor.

Jess took her recently vacated spot next to the judge's desk. He gazed across the room. The audience contained only Mr. Turner and Slim. Wayne was acting as prosecutor, labeled as such by Mr. Worthington. Sheriff Burns leaned lazily against the fence that separated the audience from the trial participants.

The questions were fired quickly and efficiently by both sides. Any arguments raised by the defense were defeated by the evidence.

Jess carefully did not look across the way at the two prisoners, but he could feel their eyes, especially _his_. He wiped his palms on his jeans frequently, wondering at how sweaty they had become.

Finally, Mr. Worthington proclaimed that Jess could step down. He walked across the floor toward the gate in the fence. Before he could react, a body hurtled toward him, massive hands grasping at Jess' shirt front.

Jess gripped the wrists of his assaulter, horrified to be face to face with Lansing. "Pretty boy, you didn't look me in the eye, not once," the crazy man intoned in his wheezy voice. "That ain't so nice. Think I'm not much to look at… or are you scared of me?"

Jess' eyes rolled white as he struggled to free himself. There was a calamity in the courtroom, scuffling of boots and shouting, but Jess was unaware of those around him.

Strong arms burst into his space, prying Lansing's cuffed hands off Jess' clothing. Jess noted with vague detachment that it was Slim and Wayne intervening on his behalf. He staggered backwards upon release, arms hanging limply, eyes unable to leave his attacker.

Slim helped get Lansing reseated, and then the rancher remained as guard behind the man. He glanced around the room, checking if everything was back in order. Then his eyes fell on Jess. The dark-haired man was standing forlornly, countenance glazed and confused. He came back to himself with a snap, his gaze flicking up to meet Slim's. There was nothing revealed, but Slim was an expert at "Jess-ology" by now. He gave his friend a curt nod, pressing his hand more firmly into Lansing's shoulder. Jess took in the meaning of the interaction before walking dazedly to return to his seat in the audience.

Lucy moved closer to him and lightly put a hand on his arm. Jess flinched but let her stay.

The rest of the trial passed without a hitch. Mr. Worthington pronounced both men guilty of attempted murder and other crimes. Ames was to be sent away to prison, while Lansing was to be sent to the location of his other accused crimes to stand trial, since murder was a more serious offense than what had transpired here.

Sheriff Burns, Slim, and Wayne stood to escort the prisoners out of the room. Lansing turned toward Jess. "You think you're rid of me, sonny? Not by a long shot. You'll see me again." His maniacal laugh echoed through the building.

Jess said nothing back in response, but just watched the man go before lowering his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache building.

Lucy squeezed his arm. "It's over, Jess."

He brought his chin up, a forced smile on his lips. "Sure, yeah. It's all good." He could tell that he was not convincing her, as her brows came together in a frown.

He got to his feet a little too quickly but managed to cover his light-headedness. "Let's get outta here."

XXXXX

A celebration of the entire affair's conclusion was held that evening. As usual, Meg held it at her house and restaurant. Everyone was in high spirits, and Jess could have sworn he even saw Lucy's dad smile once. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Mr. Turner, but deep inside he knew the man had only been acting on a father's love.

After supper was finished, Jess stepped out onto the porch for a breath of air. He felt a presence beside him. "I do love you, in a way," Lucy said, her arms clutching her shawl. "How could I not? You're a hero."

"I got you into a dangerous mess," he retorted.

"And got me out of it, don't forget that. Wayne owes you everything, he told me. He's just not man enough to tell you himself."

Jess turned toward her. "Lucy, don't ever wonder 'bout me. I wish you and Wayne the best. If I didn't know it was such a lost cause, he'd have a fight on his hands."

Lucy smiled a woman's knowing smile. "Yes, you wouldn't stand a chance, I'm afraid." She sighed softly. "What a strange time. I was married, essentially kidnapped, now unmarried but most likely to marry again... if Wayne's odd behavior is any indication. I do hope things will settle down for a while. I don't think I could keep living a life this exciting."

Jess leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. "Have a _nice_ life, Lucy."

She patted his cheek with a small touch of sadness. "You too, Jess." She went back inside with slow and gentle steps.

A shadow disconnected from the wall after she was gone, giving Jess a mild start. It was Mr. Turner.

"Boy…Jess," he corrected. "I'm here to offer my apologies. I should have believed my daughter, I should have…"

Jess held up a hand. "Mr. Turner, you're just a man who loves his daughter. You did what you thought was right. But please, don't apologize to me. Apologize to Lucy, and most of all, take good care of her. She needs you, you know."

Mr. Turner hung his head. "You think she can forgive me?"

"Don't sell her short. She's amazing."

The older man's head came up slowly. "Yes, yes she is." He also went back inside.

Jess blew out a slow breath, feeling like he didn't know what to do now. So much had happened in so short a time, and to think it all started with a woman…and ended with a woman - and a different one at that. "Jess Harper," he said to himself, "you are goin' to stay single the rest of your days, even if it kills you!"

He turned back into the party, sitting next to Slim. His tall blond friend leaned over. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, surrounded by what was important – friends and warmth. "I'm fine."

Slim nodded and went back to talking to Wayne.

Yes, all was fine with the world, Jess thought. Everything is just fine. Even as these warm feelings seeped into his chest, a small nagging thought wiggled like a worm. Jess shoved whatever the negative sense was away for later, not wanting to spoil the wonderful mood.

XXXXX

 **This is what they would call a "false ending," or something like that. There is still a few more problems to settle before Jess can call it a day. Any guesses as to what might happen next? Poor guy - when will I ever leave him alone?**


	25. One Final Lesson

**Everyone - I am so sooo sorry. Life has been getting the best of me. Where to begin? I'm moving offices at work, so I had to pack everything... I got sick for a while, and through all of this my husband and I have been replacing the windows and siding on our house - all by ourselves! Why did I have to marry such a handy man? Well, he's off purchasing an antique pistol or something ridiculous at the moment. Looks like I might have a chance to finish the next chapter today! I hope this pretty exciting and maybe a little longer chapter will help you all to forgive me for my slowness.**

 **I hope everyone's summers has gotten off to a good start! Love, Cherry**

 **C** hapter 25: One Final Lesson

Judge - or technically ex-judge - Sanders stood in his old office, gathering up his personal effects. He heard laughing voices and peered out the window at the street below. The lights were glowing brightly in that masculine woman's restaurant, and he could just make out dancing feet stamping to the music of a guitar.

A frown creased his brow angrily. How dare they celebrate after what they had done. Ruined his good name, sent him away… He shoved a few more items into a leather case with more force necessary. The floor creaked behind him and he whirled to see the shadowy form of Sheriff Burns.

"Where have you been?" he snarled.

"Around," the mustached man replied sardonically. "Heard you've been having some trouble. Thought that I'd get the prisoners bedded down and come up to check up on my old _friend."_

"What are you getting at, Burns?"

"Heard you're gonna be heading to D.C. to be worked over by the folks there."

"What about it?"

Burns shook his head slowly. "Those guys have a way of getting around to the truth, one way or another. It would be a shame if someone were to, say, _help_ them."

Sanders' back stiffened sharply. "Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"No, not me. I have as much to lose as you if certain information gets out."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

Sanders had only to think a moment before his stomach churned. "Ames."

Burns snapped his fingers. "Right on the money. He just told me that he only held back during the trial today because he wanted to see if he could get anything out of you."

"Doesn't he realized that I can't do anything for him anymore? I clearly can't dismiss his case or something like that. I'm no longer a judge."

Burns nodded in agreement. "He's figuring on another type of help. One that involves a sleepy sheriff and horses tied up back."

"Oh does he?" He gripped his wrist behind his back and started to pace. Laughter from the party spilled upward again, and he angrily slammed the window closed.

Burns peered through another window at the same scene. "I heard Harper and the Turner girl got their marriage annulled. Seems like nothing can stop him now from doing what he wants." He looked pointedly at the ex-judge.

Sanders stiffened as he understood what the sheriff was implying. He had not even considered Malinda, and with him off to D.C., nothing would stand in the way between his niece and that wild and dangerous young man.

A thought stuck him, one that was so devious that he almost pushed it aside. Then he squared his shoulders. He had come this far to protect his niece. He would not let her down, not like... _Samantha_. "How far are you willing to go with me?"

The sheriff shifted his feet. "As far as I need. You've done me a good turn in the past, getting me this job. Consider this a payback for my debt."

"You might have to leave this town. Are you prepared for that?"

"Leave my name out of your dealings in D.C., and I'll do what you ask."

They shook hands, both well aware that they were shaking hands with the devil.

XXXXX

The party wrapped up at Meg's, and everyone started home. The Turners loaded up in their wagon and bid the remaining people farewell for the evening. Jess strode along with his friends, Slim and Wayne. A companionable silence accompanied them.

"Good day," Wayne commented.

"Yep," Slim agreed.

Jess said nothing, his shoulders still too tight for Slim's liking.

"Well," the blond rancher stretched his arms. "I reckon we're all about ready to hit the sack. How about you, Jess?"

Jess shrugged. "I reckon I've had enough layin' 'round to last me a while."

They paused in front of the sheriff's office. Wayne smiled a little at Jess' complaint. "How about a round of checkers? I've got night duty at the jail."

"Maybe later. I think I'll just walk a spell."

"You sure, pard?" Slim asked concernedly. "The doctor said to keep out of the cold air. And don't you dare say 'I'm fine.'"

Jess smirked. "But it's true, pard. I will be fine."

"Sure you will!" But Jess wasn't listening. He shuffled along, leaving them behind at the jail.

Slim went to follow, but Wayne put a hand on his arm. "You know him better than me," Wayne said quietly, "but I've been where he's been, in a manner of speaking. He needs some time alone. He's that type."

Slim nodded reluctantly. "And it's not _my_ type to let things lie."

Wayne laughed. "I can see that, too. Off to bed?"

"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer for a game."

"Sounds good. Hm, I wonder why there's no lamp? So dark in here…"

 _Thump! Crash!_

"Wayne! What _...unghh…"_

The door closed slowly and quietly.

XXXXX

Jess walked along the boardwalk, a nameless tune running through his brain. His chest felt heavy, but his coughing was easing. It felt good to stretch his legs, feel the breeze on his face. He peered upward, enjoying the stars but missing the view from home.

He didn't know how far he walked, but eventually he found that he had made a loop around the main street. He was approaching the hotel, so he decided to go upstairs and see if Slim had come in yet.

Slim's bed was empty. Jess lit a candle sat a moment on his own bed, taking a breath. His lungs seemed to have a harder time with that simple function as of late. A weight slid against him when his body sank into the mattress, and he reached down to pick up the object.

The smooth leather was familiar in his hand, and his fingers automatically felt for the walnut grip of his pistol. "Hello, old friend," he greeted almost sadly. Slim must have recovered the weapon for him from one of the outlaws' saddlebags. He stood and strapped the holster to his leg, bouncing that knee back and forth, feeling the sense of balance he had missed.

Not wanting to sleep, he went back downstairs and onto the street. He looked down the street and realized that he was not far from where he had started his long walk. The jail was just ahead. He went toward it with purpose, changing his mind about spending time with the deputy.

He paused outside the building, a feeling of dread filling him with no clear reason. Then it hit him - there was not a light on in the place. He chased away the nervousness. Slim and Wayne had probably just stepped out for a drink or something.

Jess went to continue down the boardwalk when that nagging thought returned. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and before he knew what he was doing, his hand was pulling out his pistol and checking the load. He spun the full camber against his arm before uneasily sinking it back into its place against his thigh. Why was he so jumpy?

He went to the door and knocked. No answer. He tried the knob, but it was locked. He smiled a bit, mocking his own foolishness. " _Get a grip, Harper. Next thing you know you'll be chasin' ghosts."_

He thought again about checking the saloons when he heard it - a door squeaking to the side of the building. He walked slowly to the corner and peered around into the alley. The streets were dark but the alley even more so, shadows too thick to be broken by the stars.

The door was slowly opening and two figures crept out, but it was too dark for Jess to make out who they were. He thought of calling out to them, but before he could he heard a banging and muffled shout coming from within the office. The two unidentified persons started at the noise. One of them cursed, saying something about the plan being started too soon. They quickly ran down the alley into another street.

Jess drew his pistol and followed. He reached the door they had just exited when it suddenly swung wide. Jess spun, trying to avoid whoever it was coming out. A shout of surprise sounded and before Jess could stop him, the other man slammed the door shut again.

Jess rattled the handle, but he could tell it had been locked. "Open the door! What's goin' on in there?"

No one responded, so Jess was forced to take drastic measures. He kicked next to where the latch was. It took him more times than he was proud to admit to break the door frame. By the time he had accomplished this task, he was heaving for air. Swallowing hard, he put his shoulder into the broken door, pushing it into the hallway. He was inside the jail.

He stopped for moment, listening. His eyes did him no good, for it was even darker inside than out on the street. He had a vague idea where he was, since he had spent some time in the fine establishment. The side door was just next to the door that led into the cell block. Jess peered as hard as he could through the barred window in the ironclad door, but could not make out any prisoners.

He sunk low to the floor to get out of the line of fire, for he did not know what could be lurking in the darkness. He started to shuffle forward on his knees as quietly as he could, his gun held tightly in his hand.

The silence was oppressive, pressing against his eardrums like a physical force. A whisper of fresh air brushed over his face, cooling the sweat beads that were forming on his brow. Just ahead, he could vaguely make out the outline of the windows, but the shades were pulled.

He hesitated a moment, trying to control his breathing. It was at this time that he realized where the fresh air was coming from - the front door was open a crack… but it had been locked just moments earlier! Whoever had slammed the door must have fled through the front while Jess was breaking into the back.

Due to this revelation, Jess decided to take the chance that there was no one left inside the main office. He laid low and whispered, "Hello?" He dropped his head and waited for gunfire or some other response, but there was no reply.

Gathering his bravery, he struck a match on the rough planked floor. The tiny fire sparked brightly, nearly blinding his dark-adjusted eyes. His vision quickly adjusted and he could confirm now that the office was empty. Feeling rather foolish, he picked himself up off the floor and lit the lamp. The stronger light filled the room more effectively, and with a shock, Jess took in the status of the room. The desk had been shoved from its place, and a couple chairs were knocked over. Some papers, most likely from the desk, were strewn about the floor. Dirty tracks were pressed onto the white sheets, and Jess was startled to note several red drops mingling with the mud - _blood_. But whose?

He cast about, not knowing what he was looking for, when he noticed that some of the papers were scattered toward the cell block door. Almost like somebody had been dragged across them…

Realization stuck him like a mule's kick, and he grabbed up the lamp and rushed forward. He tried the door, and it swung freely. He saw two figures inside a cell together, and for a moment he thought it was Fred Ames and Lansing. However, the sight of too familiar blond hair shining in the lamp light quickly changed his mind.

Jess ran the last few steps to the cell door. Of course, it was locked. He yanked at the metal door angrily. "Slim, Slim! Are you alright?"

Slim and Wayne remained slumped as they were, bound and gagged. Jess whirled to re-enter the office to search for keys to the cells, but the disturbed room made that very difficult.

Footsteps approached rapidly on the boardwalk, and the door banged open. Jess flinched at the noise but continued his frantic hunt.

"What the heck is going on?" A hand grabbed Jess' arm and spun him around. It was the sheriff. Despite all the things the man had done to Jess in the past, Jess took a chance and trusted him.

"The prisoners have escaped! Wayne and Slim are tied up back there. I can't find the key…" His hands rifled through the papers once more, sending even more to the floor.

The sheriff pulled out a set from his pocket. "I have the spares right here! I'll send for help for those two. Head to the stables and saddle up a couple horses. They can't have gotten far. I'll join you directly."

Jess didn't argue the plan, but took off toward the stables that were just a block down the street. He charged through the open barn door, happy to see that a lantern was hanging on a post. He started throwing tack onto the nearest horse with a frantic speed that belied his injuries.

He had the first horse saddled and was working on the next when a crash sounded from the small room that made up the office and sleeping quarters of the stable manager. Jess blew out a frustrated breath before poking his head through the doorway, meeting the terrified eyes of the boy who worked there. The youth was bound and gagged in the same manner of Jess' friends back at the jail.

Jess felt the blood leave his head. " _They've been here...they could still be here…"_

Just as the thought struck him, he heard the door swing shut to the front of the stable and the large board fall into to place that made it impossible for somebody to gain access from the outside.

"Why, hello there, pretty boy."

Chills raced up Jess' spine. He felt like he couldn't move, couldn't turn around. Dry clicks of a pistol hammer being pulled back barely carried the dusty air, but to Jess they sounded like cannon fire.

"Just drop that lil' iron, sonny, and turn around."

Jess' fingers felt nerveless as he opened them to release his Colt to fall onto a nearby hay bale. Swallowing hard, he turned slowly in the doorway. Lansing stood directly before him, his pistol pointed straight for Jess' middle. Fred Ames was next to the door, his gun also drawn.

Jess took a shaky breath before gathering his wits together. "Howdy, gents. Nice seein' you again."

"Likewise, Jess," Fred's whining voice returned. "Mighty nice of you to saddle up them horses for us."

Jess shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference. "Anything I can do to be rid of you too, I'm game. Be seein' you fellas, hopef'ly no time soon."

Fred went to one of the horses, apparently to mount up, but Lansing held out a hand. "Not so fast, Ames," the madman said. "You forgot what we're doin' here."

Fred threw up his hands in frustration before he signaled Jess to come forward. Jess reluctantly did so, hating the new distance between himself and his gun. "Now, Jess, you know there is nothing I'd like better than to put a bullet right between those angry eyes of yours, excepting that a shot would raise attention. So we're gonna take ya out into the woods someplace and finish you off there. How's that sound?"

"Wonderful," Jess answered drily, some of his Harper confidence returning. "I always did love bein' out in nature."

"Then you'll get as much as you could ever hope when we leave your carcass for the wolves."

"So this was the plan?" Jess mused aloud. "Kill two birds with one stone?"

"What're you talking about? There's only one of you."

The thought had hit Jess like a ton of bricks. "Don't you lugheads see? The sheriff sent me over here, knowin' you'd be here waitin' for me."

"Sure, since you're dyin' anyway, I can tell ya it was all part of the plan."

"And you two idiots think that the road is goin' to be free and clear when you open those doors again?"

Jess could see the wheels turning in Lansing's head, but Fred blustered, "You can't trick us, Harper! We made a deal…"

"A deal with the sheriff, who has every legal right to shoot you down like the mangy dogs you are. You are escaped prisoners, after all."

Panic struck Fred. "I don't believe you…"

"You know too much, Fred. Did you really think you could blackmail the judge and the sheriff and get away with it? Look what they did to me, the lengths they went to to get rid of me. This is just another part of their drawn out plan."

Fred gathered himself. "Since you seem to have all the ideas, why don't you prove it and stick your head out the door? See if it gets shot off, then I'll believe you."

However, they did not need to test their theory, as something hit the door of the stables, sounding a bit like a thrown rock.

"Ames! Are you still in there?" a muffled voice whispered through a crack.

"There he is now, Fred. Looks like you need to be the one to stick your head out."

"Ames!" The voice was a little louder and a lot more annoyed.

Fred looked torn, like he couldn't decide what to do.

Finally, Lansing butted in. "Let him in, Freddie."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Fred unbarred the door. "Sheriff, come in here, we've got a big problem."

The hesitation was plain in the lawman's voice. "What's the matter?"

"We've got a few questions about our arrangement."

"What questions? You know the plan. Do you have Harper yet?"

"Yeah, we got him."

"Well, then what's the problem? We don't have all night."

Fred looked toward Lansing, who nodded evilly. "It won't take but a minute, Sheriff."

A huff was heard, then the scraping of feet. "Oh, all right. But this better be important."

Lansing reached toward his side, and if memory served him correctly, Jess knew what was kept there. His stomach tightened as he realized what was about to happen. He ran forward. "No, don't-"

Fred opened the door and Lansing met the sheriff, a long knife in his large hand. The blade glittered in the lantern light, but soon the metal was no longer visible.

"Gah…," the sheriff choked, crimson spreading across his shirt. Lansing pulled the knife back out, bringing forth another gush of blood. The heavy lawman collapsed to the ground, hands clutching his side. Lansing went to finish off the downed man, but Jess leapt in to stop him.

Jess grabbed Lan's arm that was holding the knife, struggling to prevent him from taking yet another person's life. Lansing smirked, and with his free hand, grasped Jess by the collar, meaty fist tightening.

Jess was not to be put down so easily this time around. He kicked out with his boots and managed to hook one heel around Lansing's knee and caused it to collapse toward the ground. Lansing stumbled forward and fell to the same knee that Jess had momentarily incapacitated. However, Jess' maneuver was costly, for now he was half underneath the giant man. Lan took full advantage and switched his hold on Jess' neck to one bandaged wrist. His yellow teeth glowed gold in the lantern light as he twisted his fingers. Jess couldn't help the groan of agony as the wounds were torn open again, and his left hand involuntarily loosened.

With this victory, Lansing was able to fling Jess away. He tumbled in the loose dust, disoriented for a moment. He scrambled to get to his feet again when the other man stood over him.

"Going somewhere, Harper?" Ames asked in a snarky tone. He held a gun in one hand and a loop of rope in the other. He shook the cord out with a small snap. "I think you know the drill."

Jess' eyes darted toward Lansing and the sheriff. Lansing was already lumbering to his feet, wiping his knife on the sheriff's pants. Jess could not tell if the lawman's chest was moving, but he was doubtful it ever would again.

Lansing tucked the long knife into a sheath before making his way over. A sly smile crept over his face. "Thought you was smart, huh? Looks like you might be a little bit, figgerin' out the plan, but that sheriff sure weren't."

"Come on, Lan," Fred urged, "we gotta get outta here! Somebody's gonna notice something's wrong! Get him ready to go."

"Alright, sonny boy," Lan intoned. "You're comin' with me. It's time for your final lesson, done right this time."

"No," Jess couldn't help but groan as Lan accepted the length of cord from his accomplice.

The small utterance stopped the huge man. "What did you say?"

Jess' hands shook with a cold rage that had climbed from within his soul. "NO! Never again will I be pushed around by the likes of you!"

Large, stained teeth showed in a snarling grin. "You're about to be, pretty boy, one last time."

"Lan, come on!" Fred urged. He had pulled out the two horses. "We can finish him in the forest as planned!"

"Oh, Freddie, you know I don't follow plans."


	26. Lesson Learned

**Chapter 26: Lesson Learned**

Fred threw up his hands. "We don't have time for your little games, Lan! I hate his guts but that don't mean I want to risk my life to play around. Do what you like, I'm getting outta here."

"Suit yourself," Lan pleasantly agreed.

Fred looked at the other man suspiciously. "How do I know you won't kill me soon as I turn my back, like you did them other fellers?"

"Freddie, they didn't turn their backs on me. 'Sides, what good would it do me to kill you?"

Fred considered this, then made his decision. "Fine, but put your gun away. It'll ease my mind." He turned toward Jess. "Guess this is goodbye, Harper. I sure woulda liked to have finished you myself, but I reckon it makes me feel better when I think that what Lan'll do to you'll be way worse than anything I could dream up. No hard feelings?" he smirked devilishly, as though it was all so funny.

Jess just rolled his eyes, not bothering to humor the cowardly man. Jess doubted Fred could kill anyone who was looking at him.

Fred scowled a moment before shrugging. "Be seeing you, Lan."

"Sure, Freddie," Lan returned amicably, but Jess could read in the madman's eyes that things were not going to be so simple. Jess bounced on the balls of his feet, wondering what would happen next.

Lansing seemed excited at Fred's apparent departure, and started running the rope through his hand. Jess swallowed uneasily.

"On second thought," Fred commented after watching the silent interaction between the other two men, "I think I might just take the time to see what you're gonna do to young Harper here, maybe even help ya out some."

Lan seemed perturbed to notice that Fred was still with them. "I said you can get, so go on and get."

Fred straightened, his hand tightening on his gun. "I don't have to listen to you, Lan. You're just some crazy man I picked up to help me do a job - and it seems to me that you did a terrible one at that!"

Jess could see that both outlaws were becoming agitated - Fred from being told what to do, and Lansing from being called crazy. Jess resisted the urge to glance behind himself toward his gun. Despite the apparent distraction in which the two arguing men were involved, Lansing was still a calculating killer. Fred wasn't too stable himself at this time.

Jess decided that the best thing he could do at this time would be to keep the attention off himself...until this plan was ruined by something he couldn't control. A tickle wiggled its way up his throat, giving him the unmistakable message: he needed to cough. He held his breath, but this just made it worse. He let a small "ahem" escape, but this was like opening the dam.

Jess bent double, hacking up what felt like part of a lung. Across the stable, the two armed men stopped their squabbling to take in the struggling and ill man.

Fred waved his arms. "Oh come on, Harper!" He stomped over to where Jess stood hunched over. "You really think we're gonna fall for that little trick again?"

Jess wheezed a moment. He had one arm around his ribs and other braced against the ground, and peered up at Fred's face through one eye. "I hoped you would, and you obliged."

"What-"

Jess grabbed a fistful of fine dust and flung it into Fred's face, then followed through with one of the most vicious uppercuts he'd ever delivered. Almost immediately his fist swelled and blood gushed through the split skin on his knuckles.

Fred's head flew back, his arms spread away from his sides as he stumbled backward before falling onhis back. Jess didn't stop to survey the damage but charged across the small space toward where he had left his gun. Unfortunately, it had slid off the hay bale when he had dropped it, and he could not see it in the loose straw. He reached out a hand to search when he barely heard a whirring noise before a small thunk finished the first sound. In disbelief, Jess observed Lan's knife quivering from where it protruded from the wall, its blade sunk deeply into the board. The blade had managed to just catch Jess' jacket sleeve along with a pinch of skin, capturing Jess' right arm. Jess frantically grabbed at the wooden handle, but he didn't have enough time when the end of a rope snapped against the back of his other hand like a bullwhip.

Gritting his teeth, he glared up at Lansing, who was recoiling the length of cord. "Nice try, sonny," the madman complemented. "You sure do never give up, do you?"

Fred rolled, groaning. Lansing turned and spit at the downed man. "Idjit," he snarled, then turned back toward Jess. "No, no," he scolded as Jess continued to wiggled the handle up and down. "Don't be in a hurry, pretty boy." In a rapid and deft move, Lansing kicked Jess' feet and knocked the Texan from his crouch. Jess fell heavily to his seat, sucking in air when the abrupt movement pulled on the skin trapped with his sleeve. He sat against the wall, panting fast with his knees drawn up against himself protectively.

Lansing braced himself on Jess' knee and lowered himself down to Jess' level. "Hm, you sure are lookin' better than you was out on the trail." Before Jess could avoid the man's hand, Lansing had his jaw firmly grasped in a huge hand. "Yep, them bruises are fadin' to green and yeller. They was real pretty before, all purple and blue."

Jess dug his fingernails into the man's hand, a weak defense to be sure, but it was all he could manage. The man's terrible breath washed over Jess' face, bringing back memories he was sure he could live without. "Just get on with whatever you're plannin', Lansing. I'm gettin' bored here," he bluffed. Inwardly, he could hardly contain the shudders that fought to be released.

"Now, little feller, why you wanna rush things? Don't you wanna talk or nothin'?"

Jess was pulling against the hand clamped on his face, so when the larger man abruptly let go, Jess' head thumped back against the wooden planks behind him.

"Aw," Lansing commented, showing concern. "You bump yer head there, sonny? You gotta be more careful."

The hit on the head was nothing serious, as it had not been a hard strike. Jess still felt confusion about Lansing's odd behavior, but wondered why he bothering thinking about anything the crazy man did. However, he was not prepared when Lansing grasped him by his hair and pulled his head forward, bending Jess' spine to the point of discomfort.

"Don't see no lumps or nothin'. You must be okay."

He released his hold on Jess, who slowly straightened back up, his free hand to his scalp. "Why do you care?" he asked in a careful tone. "I thought you wanted to kill me."

Lansing smiled in a friendly way, and Jess felt his stomach knot. "Why, sonny, what gave you that idea?"

Jess' mouth fell open in shock. "What...why...you…," he stammered.

Lansing rubbed Jess' knee in a comforting way, gripping it firmly when Jess tried to pull it away. "It's never been the plan to kill ya, kid. I just wanted ya to learn a real good lesson and become a better man."

Jess felt as though he were having an out of body experience. "And have I learned?" a voice asked that seemed separate from himself.

Lansing's hands were twisting and flipping the end of the rope. He stood slowly, holding the end and swinging the little noose he had made. He shook his head sadly. "You gotta stubborn streak a mile wide, sonny. You tried to tell them people at the trial that I was some kind 'a crazy man. You know that ain't true, don't ya boy?"

Jess could only stare up at the man, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to set off the man if possible.

"I said, don't you know that ain't true? I ain't crazy, right?"

Jess' heart leapt into his throat when Lansing dove toward him on the floor. Jess' knees tightened against his chest, hoping to spare himself from the impact. However, Lansing was not looking to crush Jess. Instead, the small noose the madman had formed was being cinched tight around Jess' free wrist. Jess frantically tried to bring his left hand to his mouth to try to work the noose free, but Lansing was ready for this. He was pulling the rope tight by tossing the free end over a beam above their heads and tying it off. Jess' arms were now stretched out away from his body, one being held by the rope and the other pinned by the knife.

Chest heaving, he tested both arms, but the knife cut cruelly and the rope was snug. Finally he managed to look up at Lansing, who had resumed his stance a few paces in front of the captured man. He just stood there smiling, a friendly face to those who didn't know any better. "You think I'm crazy, huh, Jess-boy?"

It was the first time Jess recalled Lansing using his actual name. He shook his head, afraid to answer.

Lansing beamed even more. "Aw, thatta boy! Too polite to answer! Maybe ya did learn ya somethin' after all." Lansing pulled out his pistol and licked the barrel in a long stroke. "I just love me the taste of cold metal. Just somethin' so sweet 'bout a thing that can end the life of a creature."

Jess closed his mouth when he realized it was dry from hanging open. Lansing smirked at this before spinning the revolving cylinders, listening to the clicks close to his ear. "Yer prob'ly wonderin' if I plan to end _your_ life, little creature?" He knelt beside Jess again. "I've thought on it, for certain." He stroked the barrel against Jess' cheek, who felt the moisture of the other man's saliva soaking into his skin. He jerked his face away with unconcealed revulsion. "Ha-ha," Lansing breathed. "Does curdle yer blood, don't it? Havin' a _crazy_ man so close to ya, huh?" He blew air into Jess' ear, manically giggling when Jess jumped. The criminal pressed his free hand into Jess' face, forcing him to turn his gaze toward Lansing. He pressed the end of his pistol into Jess' temple. "How's it feel now, sonny? To have death one click away?"

Jess stared into the eyes of death, seeing nothing but madness swirling like a mirky pondy to dirty to see the bottom. "It's a relief," he finally sighed.

Lansing's face screwed in confusion. "How's that?"

"Death. An end to the sufferin' you've caused me. I'd welcome it with open arms."

"Ya would? Why would ya say that? Don't be sayin' stuff like that! You're supposed to be scared of me!"

This was a new development. Was the man actually...pouting?

The pistol barrel shook against Jess' head, the metal grinding deeper into the tender skin there. "Ain't ya just a little scared? That's what respectin' is, bein' scared of somebody."

"No, it's not, Lan," Jess argued. "Respect is lookin' up to somebody who deserves bein' looked up to. They do you a good turn without expecting' nothin' back. That's when you respect somebody. Not when they hit ya and beat ya and tie you to the wall."

Lansing's teeth ground audibly, and before Jess could brace himself, the man struck Jess across the cheek with the pistol butt. The blow wasn't as hard as it could have been, but just the same Jess could feel the skin begin to swell across his cheekbone. He blinked several times to clear his vision, seeing through the stars that flickered across his view the other man stumbling to his feet, one hand to his head and the other waving the gun around. He moaned like a wounded dog and pressed the heel of his hand against one eye. He pointed the gun point-blank at Jess. "I teached you respect, and don't you try an' tell me somethin' else. That's what my daddy teached me, respect."

Jess stared back, stillness in his heart. "You did nothin' but show me how to be scared of somebody. But I ain't scared any more, Lan. Not any more."

"Nnnnnoooooo!" the man shrieked loudly enough to raise the dead. He stalked around the barn, kicking objects. The horses stirred nervously and one pawed the wall, its hard hoof sounding like a wardrum.

Jess watched for a few seconds before his senses returned to him. _My gun!_ He looked around frantically for his dropped pistol. In the earlier struggle, loose straw had been tossed about, but in the flickering lantern light he could just make out a metallic gleam. He yanked at his tethered arm, but it did no good.

Meanwhile, Lansing had turned his attention to Fred. "You respect me, don't ya Freddie?"

Fred, while barely coherent, still had the good sense to nod his head in agreement.

Jess took in this interaction out of the corner of his eye, desperately trying to think of a way to free at least one hand. The hand tied with rope was out of the question, which meant…

Lansing whirled, facing Jess. " _He_ respects me!" he triumphantly shouted with a childlike pride.

Jess was not focusing on his enemy at this point. He clenched his jaw and prepared himself.

"Sonny?" Lansing demanded attention. "You listen to me, boy!"

"NO!" Jess shouted through clenched teeth, then yanked his arm down with what resembled a Comanche war cry. Fabric and skin alike ripped on the razor-sharp blade, and the pain was almost unbearable. Blood soaked into the tan material instantly and ran down his arm to creep into the bandage around his wrist.

"Boy, what're you doin'?" Lansing asked, his face red with anger.

"Gettin' clear of you," Jess growled, reaching as hard as he could for the half-covered pistol.

XXXXX

 **Oh, I am so mean. Cliffhanger! Sorry friends!**

 **Truth be told, I have been trying to upload this chapter for a couple days but the formatting kept trying to mess with me. I'm at my parents' visiting and I didn't bring my laptop, just my tablet and phone, so maybe that's why - it doesn't like mobile devices? I'm "borrowing" their computer (while they aren't home) so I can get this up to you. I do have the rest of the story laid out, just need to hammer out the dents and polish the scratches. ;)**


	27. When Will the Nightmare End?

**Hi everyone - I have a mini speech to deliver here. Please feel free to skip on past to the story if you desire.**

 **I just feel as though I need to get something off my chest. Recently, an anonymous individual wrote a review insinuating that I don't care about my readers and that all I care about is reviews, and that is why there are long periods between chapter updates. Let me please say that this is not the case! The reason I am "dragging this out" is simply a case of limited personal time to work on this story. When I say that I am busy and ask forgiveness, this is the cold hard truth! I had this story finished when I started publishing it but then due to some suggestions from reviewers I decided to change the ending. I never ever wanted to prolong this story.**

 **This may sound like excuses, but they are credible. I would never start a story on here without completing it if at all possible, but as explained above, I realized I needed to change the original story somewhat.**

 **I myself don't typically read stories that aren't complete for the same reasons others do. I don't want to start an exciting story and then have it be left hanging!**

 **I promise on my love for Jess Harper, this story will be finished. We are so very nearly there! Thank you again for joining me on this journey, and thank you to those who leave me encouraging reviews. I initially only wrote stories for my own enjoyment, but the kind words you give me keep me posting.**

 **Cheers to all!**

 **Chapter 27: When Will the Nightmare End?**

 _Pound...pound...pound…_

" _What's that thumping?"_ Blue eyes opened blearily. It took Slim several more beats of the same noise to realize that the sound was coming from inside his own head. His pulse was throbbing in his ears, and he realized that his skull hurt...tremendously.

When a moan escaped his throat, he was startled to realize that not only was he gagged by a cloth, he was also tied hand and foot. Flexing his strong shoulders, the ropes proved to be knotted tightly. He rubbed his face against one shoulder, and was immensely relieved when the gag slipped from his face to rest around his neck.

He paused a moment to think. He had no recollection of what had happened, or where he was. Straining to remember, he could picture walking down the road with Jess and Wayne, but that was as far back as he could think.

He took stock of his current location. There were no lights nearby, as it was extremely dark. Was he alone? Where were his friends? He rolled his knees side to side, cringing when the movement sent pins and needles racing down his left leg. He must have been laying on it for some time to have it fall asleep like that. He continued to wiggle until he started to move away from his current position.

His progress was halted when he thumped into what felt like...a body. Heart hammering even louder than before, Slim positioned his hands behind his back to try and feel whatever was next to him. He was rewarded almost instantly to find a man's face. The skin was warm, and he could feel gentle breath coming from the person's nose. He also was gagged. Was it Jess or Wayne?

He worked his fingers under the cloth around the other man's face until he was able to pull it completely down. Then he did the only thing left to do. He flicked the person in the cheek several times.

"Mmmm - Ow!" Slim instantly knew that this person was not Jess. Jess would've probably tried to bite the offending finger.

"What…?" a groggy voice asked, now recognizable as Wayne's.

"Wayne, it's me, Slim. We're tied up...though I don't know how we got this way. Is Jess over by you?"

He could hear rustling as Wayne struggled to feel around. "No...he's not here. I'm a bit foggy, but didn't he go on without us when we went to the jail?"

Slim cranked his neck up to try and see around. His eyes could just make out the window above their heads, and it was barred. "We're in a cell."

"The prisoners!" Wayne groaned. "It's coming back to me. I can remember coming in and getting jumped."

"Somebody must have helped them," Slim reckoned.

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. We need to get out of here and find Jess. Knowing him, he'll find those two and tangle with them head on."

They maneuvered until they were back to back, and Slim set to work on Wayne's wrists. The knots were not complicated, and Slim had the other man freed in no time. Wayne quickly returned the favor, and they both sat up to untie their own feet.

Getting to his feet a little shakily, Slim asked, "Now what?"

Wayne tried the cell door. Naturally, it was locked. "Hasn't stopped me before." He reached into his pocket and then jammed whatever he had in his hand into the keyhole.

"What are you doing?" Slim questioned, trying to make out what was happening in the dark room.

"Oh, just a little trick with my pocket knife, which someone foolishly left in my pocket."

A metallic click sounded, and the door swung open on rusty hinges.

Slim stared in astonishment. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

White teeth flashed in the dark. "Just because I'm a lawman now doesn't mean I've always walked the straight and narrow. Come on!"

A lamp was burning in the main office, which looked like a tornado had passed through. They found their guns on the floor against a wall, like they'd been kicked there by someone.

They gathered up their weapons and checked their loads before rushing outside. "What are we going to do?" Slim asked breathlessly. "We don't even know how long they've been gone."

Wayne was thinking hard about something. "Do you...no, can't believe that."

"What? Believe what?"

Wayne rubbed his chin uneasily. "The sheriff was supposed to be guarding them. Why wasn't he tied up with us? Or better yet, how did the prisoners break out so they could jump us?"

"Jess told me a little about your sheriff," Slim answered. "That he and the judge were pretty good friends."

Wayne slapped his own forehead. "I've been such an idiot!"

They could discuss things no longer when they heard a shot fired, followed many more only a half second later in rapid succession.

The two men didn't even glance at each other, but charged down the street toward the fight.

XXXXX

 _Moments before..._

Jess' fingers grappled in the dust, inching closer toward the gun. His other wrist was being painfully chafed by the rope still cinched tight.

"Don't think you can get away!" Lansing screamed. He started forward, hand reaching to his cross draw holster.

What happened next seemed to tick by with the seconds.

 _Jess' middle finger managed to catch the very tip of the pistol._

 _He snagged it and pulled it toward himself._

 _Lansing pulled his iron and set his feet, aiming with surety._

 _Jess grabbed the barrel of his gun and flipped it up in the air, catching the handle like he'd done it hundreds of times before...which he had._

 _Fire. Firefirefirefirefire…._

Lansing roared in pain as his hand flew back, sending his weapon flying. He fell to his knees, hunched over many bleeding wounds.

Smoke swirled around Jess head, coming from the muzzle of his pistol. For a few moments he sat unmoving, his face an expressionless mask. Then his right cheek ticked a few times in response to the splinters that were embedded in his skin. Lansing's bullet had slammed into the wall a mere hair from his right ear. Jess peered out of the corner of one eye at the bullet hole so close to where his head had been.

"Well," the Texan croaked. His gun hand dropped to his lap.

Fred sat in shock, no doubt seeing his life flashing before his eyes. Lansing gurgled and choked, falling to his side.

Jess watched both passively before reaching out to grasp the bloody knife still stuck in the wall beside him. After working it back and forth, it tugged free. He reached across himself toward the rope.

Lansing stirred, then staggered to his feet, blood draining out of him from all five bullets Jess had pumped into him. His face was white as a sheet, and his eyes held nothing but insanity.

"Pretty boy," he wheezed, and Jess froze.

"If I go," the madman gasped, "you'll come too."

The huge man hurtled across the space with unthinkable speed, and Jess had no time before impact.

XXXXX

Slim threw caution to the wind as he slammed into the livery doors, yanking them wide. The first thing he saw was the sheriff, mortally wounded if not dead.

However, his attention was quickly drawn toward the movement at the other end of the building. Lansing was charging toward what seemed to be a helpless Jess.

"Jess!" he shouted, but he only saw a flash of gritted teeth before the bulk of the criminal crashed down onto the rancher's best friend.

Wayne quickly covered Fred Ames, who sat cowering on the ground, while Slim ran as fast as he could toward Jess and Lansing.

Slim grabbed handfuls of Lansing's shirt and heaved as hard as he could, and yet it still proved to be a mighty struggle. Finally he managed to shift the huge man off of Jess, rolling the body to the side.

One glance at the man's face, still fixed in a maniacal smile, told Slim that the evil man was dead. At least four bullet wounds could be seen in the man's chest. He quickly knelt by his best friend's side, horrified at the amount of blood covering the younger man. Shaking fingers fumbled with Jess' shirt buttons, but a red-stained hand gently fell across Slim's arm.

He looked up into Jess' exhausted eyes. "Don't feet, Slim. Not my blood." His worn face traveled toward Lansing's body. "Is he…"

Slim placed a hand on Jess' shoulder. "He's gone, Jess, gone for good."

Jess sighed, long and hard, and laid his head back against the wall. "Didn't think I'd pull through this time around."

Slim grimaced to himself. "Don't say things like that. You're Jess Harper. You always pull through."

Slim noticed the rope tied to Jess' wrist. His hand went to his pocket but stopped when a large blood-covered knife filled his vision.

"Here, use this. It's only right," Jess rasped. The knife and Jess' hand were equally stained, and Slim put two and two together. He looked toward the dead body.

"His?"

Jess gave a small nod. "He fell on it when he came at me."

Jess continued to stare at the man who had caused him so much grief, so without saying anything, Slim took the knife gingerly. He swallowed back disgust at the slimy surface of the handle but managed to quickly slice through the thin rope. Jess' arm fell limply to the ground.

Wayne had moved over to the sheriff. "He's dead," he announced with a touch of regret. "It's too bad... too bad to see a lawman go sour."

Jess suddenly clamored to his feet, waving away Slim's offer to assist. He casually reloaded his gun as though nothing had happened. When he put the pistol back in his holster, Slim could only then see the tremor in Jess' hand. Jess caught Slim's gaze, realized what the tall man was thinking, and self-consciously cross his arms tightly.

"I guess this means it's all over," Wayne speculated. He turned his attention toward Fred. "I don't know what you were figuring, busting out with that lunatic. You should have known it wouldn't work out for you."

Fred put his hands up pleadingly. "It weren't my idea, Deputy. Lansing made me come along with him! He killed the sheriff, too!"

Jess snorted. "Dad gum, Fred. That's the stupidest thing that's come out of your mouth yet. I was sittin' right here when you told me about 'the plan.' You had this figured all along. Thought you could blackmail the sheriff, did ya?"

"No, no, weren't like that…"

"And what would you even have on the sheriff that would make him want to try to kill you? Unless he was doin' it for someone else…"

Slim watched as Fred turned an even lighter shade, and realized that Jess had hit the nail on the head. "Wayne and I were just thinking about how good of friends the judge and the sheriff were."

Jess snatched Fred up by the collar. "Where's Sanders, Fred? He have a part in this?"

Fred pushed at Jess, but the Texan's grip was like iron despite all he had been through. Jess rattled Fred's small amount of brains until he finally crowed, "Alright, alright! He helped bust us out!"

"Why?" Jess demanded.

"So I wouldn't rat him out on the other things he's done in the past that I helped him do!"

Wayne crowded in close. "You didn't testify against him at the trial because of this bargain?"

Fred nodded tragically, and Slim could almost feel sorry for him - but didn't try very hard.

"You can turn it around," Wayne mentioned. "You can testify _against_ him in exchange for deals with the government."

"What kinda deals?"

"Shortened sentence, a more comfortable prison, things like that."

Fred's mouth grew into a small smile. "I didn't know I could do that."

Jess shoved the man away. "You don't know what you'll get. But I do know what will happen if you try to make a deal and don't hold up your end." He stroked the butt of his pistol, and with his bloody hand, it was a fearsome sight. Fred looked desperately toward Wayne.

The deputy took his cue. "Let's get things cleaned up here. The town'll start showing up any second now, what with all the shooting."

They all made ready to do what the lawman suggested when the front door banged open.

"I've come too far to give up now!" the ex-judge shouted. He had a pistol in each hand pointed toward everyone, and hatred was strong in his eyes.


	28. Back to Normal

**Notes of the day will be short: time for that judge to get his butt kicked. That is all.**

 **Chapter 28: Back to Normal**

Jess' hand twitched toward his gun ever so slightly, but the tightly-wound older man noted even that.

"Harper, hold off on that," Sanders shouted. "I know you'd like to 'drill me,' isn't that what you'd say?"

Jess stayed silent.

Wayne took half a step forward, his hands out. "Now, Judge, there isn't any call for this. You know you don't face the death penalty."

Sanders smirked. "Oh, no? Not even after little Fred Ames here spills everything?" He turned toward the mentioned individual, who tried to make himself small behind Slim's frame. "Why did you turn on me, Fred? You think these people can really help you?"

"You were gonna have me killed!" Fred whined.

"How'd you know that? These people told you all those things! Did you hear any of these things from the sheriff or myself?"

Fred looked conflicted. He stood up straighter as he thought about what Sanders had said. "Now that you say that…" He glared accusingly at Jess. "You just said those things to confuse us!"

Jess smiled without humor. "It worked, sure enough. But what was said was true, whether you want to believe it or not."

Sanders spoke up again. "Fred, take their weapons, and you can ride out of here. I'll give you time to get away."

Fred leapt into action, happy to get another chance. "I knew you wouldn't really turn on me, Judge."

"Sure, sure," the man said, keeping his guns steady on all of them despite Fred being the only one armed at this point. Jess could see no honesty in the man's face, despite promises to Fred. He knew that Fred would meet an end very soon if something didn't happen.

"Bring those guns over here and put them on the ground by me," the ex-judge commanded. "Then you be going."

Fred did as he was bid, putting his own gun in his holster. He glanced around the large, shadowy room one last time before giving all a cheery salute. "Be seeing you all!"

He stepped out the door without checking for danger. This was his final mistake. A loud voice was heard outside. "Look, there's one of them escaped prisoners now! After him!"

A few shots fired, followed by an agonized scream in the distance.

Sanders laughed at the remaining men's horrified faces. "I alerted the neighbors that the jail had been compromised. They took it from there, as you can tell." He shrugged with an innocent air. "As you can see, my hands are clean of the whole business."

Jess spit on the ground. Sanders smirked at the action. "Oh, if only getting rid of you were so easy as spitting you like a bad piece of meat. Unfortunately, this is a much more complicated task." He let out a long sigh. "One that very sadly ends in your demise and quite possibly mine."

"Why? Why does it have to end this way?" Slim asked.

"Because of something you won't understand until you're a father. You're not one, are you? Of course not. I failed my dear little girl. I didn't take measures necessary to ensure she would be safe, safe from the likes of your dear friend, Harper. I'm going away. You all saw to that. This leaves Mr. Harper every opportunity to continue his courtship of my niece, who I consider to be quite close to me and my wife, if not a replacement of the daughter we lost. I will _not_ allow something to happen to her. This is something I must do, and nothing anyone can say will talk me out of this. I have done all I can for her so far, but more extreme measures are required." He gestured with one gun. "Mr. Grant and Mr. Sherman, step off to the side. Go on, or I will be forced to use these before I desire."

Jess cut a glance toward his friends, who looked back at him with equally worried looks. " _Great",_ he mused, " _now I got two mother hens to look after me."_ He tried for a smile but it fell flat, and Slim gave him a wilting stare that clearly said, " _No, you will not be fine. You do not 'got this.'"_ Jess gave him a short shrug, to which Slim just rolled his eyes, but he chewed his lip nervously just the same.

"Now, Harper," Sanders said, interrupting the silent conversation. "I'm going to toss this gun over to you. You will not pick it up, but let it lie." He did so, and Jess had to take a short step back to avoid the metal object from striking his shin. Dust puffed against his jeans, but made no difference as they were already coated with the fine dirt. He glanced down at the similarly dirty weapon, then back up again at Sanders. His mouth felt dry.

"I'm going to count to three," Sanders said. "On the count, you will pick up the gun and duel with me."

"That's not fair!" Slim protested. "His gun will be all the way on the ground and you're already holding yours."

"I'm just making the stakes even," Sanders explained. "There is no way to make it an even fight if he's not handicapped in some way. The way these gunfighters get in these so-called 'fair fights' and call it self-defense...well, it just does not sit right with me."

"I don't care where you sit, except if it were on a cactus," Jess snarled. "I ain't goin' for that gun. I won't be givin' you your way out of fightin' me like a man."

"You will be going for it, if I have to shoot both of your friends first in order to get you to participate."

Jess frowned darkly in response, which Sanders took as an indication of defeat.

"Ready? One…"

Jess licked his lips, hair on his neck tingling and fingers twitching. Could he make it?

"Two…"

Jess wiped his hand on his filthy jeans, while at the same time feeling a brief mixture of grief and gratitude: saddened that his best friend would have to watch him die, but thankful that he himself would not have to leave this earth alone.

He tensed in anticipation for the last count, flexing his knees a touch so he would be ready to hit the ground.

"Three!"

As he lunged to the ground, landing on his knees, Jess made a desperate grab for a gun for the second time that day. He heard the gun fire across the room from him, and as before his fingers found the pistol grip just at the right moment. A bullet plucked at his shirt sleeve but found no flesh.

He was aiming and firing without hesitation, with the same amazing accuracy that brought down Lansing - only this time his target was slightly different.

Sanders cried out in pain as the gun he was holding dropped to the ground. He clutched his right forearm with his left hand, trying to staunch the bleeding. Jess had only wounded him.

Jess slowly climbed to his feet, feeling as though this was the last time today that he would be able to do this simple yet physically trying movement. He kept the gun ready and pointed as he walked across the dirt floor toward his nemesis, the man who was at the root of all his current troubles. He stopped several feet in front of the man.

The dis-robed judge panted, his face contorted. He and Jess simply stared at each other for several moments. Finally, the older man broke the silence. "Why? You could have killed me? Why didn't you?"

Jess emptied, then threw the borrowed gun on the ground. "To show you that I'm not who you think I am." He tossed the unspent bullets across the space at the man, who flinched but remained where he was. "Besides, killin' you'd be too easy. I s'pose, either way you'd get what you wanted: either I'd be dead or Belinda wouldn't go on with the man who killed her uncle. Naw, I ain't gonna make it that easy for you." He kicked Sanders' gun away. "You're gonna go somewhere far, far away, maybe forever. And all that time, you're gonna be wonderin'. You're gonna be stayin' up at night wonderin' if I'm messin' 'round your niece, if we're married, shucks, if you got any grand nephews who look just like me." Jess smirked, though it almost looked like a grimace of pain. "I got ya this time, _Judge_. You ain't gonna fox me again. Never ever again."

A hub of voices were building outside the livery, and flickering lights could be made out through the cracks in between the boards. Several men entered the building, exclaiming and enquiring. Wayne quickly rushed forward and took control, ushering the judge before him and asking a few men to help with the bodies.

Jess took a few steps back, suddenly aware of the blood dripping from his right hand from the knife wound, of the throbbing welt on his cheek, and of a general overall ache. He was _so tired_.

A strong hand pressed into his elbow and Jess didn't have to look to see who it was. "How's that for evenin' entertainment, pard?" Jess tried to joke, but couldn't manage to bring humor into his voice.

A annoyed grunt sounded from Slim as he guided Jess toward the side of the building to avoid the sudden crowd of people, then toward the door.

"Hold it there, pard," Jess protested, stopping the tall rancher from no doubt continuing his mothering back at the hotel.

"Jess, you need to rest and get bandaged up... _again_." Jess could feel the exasperation oozing toward him.

Jess brushed aside Slim's complaint. "I think you should poke your head in the tack room, see what you come up with. Once you're finished with that, I'll sure enough follow you back to the hotel."

Slim rolled his eyes, but followed up on Jess' request. A small, muffled but excited cry was heard. Moments later the poor stable boy came running out, wrists chafed. He stopped in his tracks at the door, panicked at the sight of all the blood and people. Slim pushed him further out from behind, and Jess watched the man point toward the deputy. Wayne caught the gesture and waved the boy over, who stumbled forward in a shocked state. He would recover, and pretty soon there wouldn't be anyone in town with a horse who didn't know the boy's exciting story.

Jess smirked a little, but nearly fell over his own feet when he started walking again. Slim, of course, was there like a lightning bolt and was back to supporting his friend. The tall man easily pushed through the crowd, who all stared dumbstruck.

As they went out into the street, a couple men went by carrying a stretcher. On it was none other but Fred Ames, miraculously still alive and talking. "I'll sing like a canary! Hangin' ain't good enough for that double-crossing judge…"

Jess and Slim watched silently as the cowardly outlaw was taken up toward the doctor's office, swearing oaths against the ex-judge the entire way. "Sounds like Fred finally saw the light," Slim commented.

Jess snorted in response, too tired to think of anything to add. They started forward again, one leaning against the other, away from the crowds and lights, and into the cool darkness of the street beyond.

XXXXX

"Are you sure you can't stay for the wedding?" Lucy's soft and warm hand pressed against Jess' freshly bandaged arm.

Jess shrugged and half-grinned. "Sorry, Lucy, but I feel as though that might just be too much, considerin' who was gettin' married the last time I was at a weddin'."

Her smile was slight but knowing. She gently nodded a few times, then hugged Jess tightly. "I'll miss you," she whispered in his ear.

He hugged her back, almost unable to let go. But he did, he always did. They stood back, with suddenly nothing left to say. Thankfully, Slim was coming over that moment with the horses. "Ready, pard?"

"I guess I am," Jess answered with a gruff voice.

Final goodbyes were made, with promises to visit if either party was headed in the other's direction. Wayne shook hands with both men, but held Jess' hand the longest. "Been a pleasure, Jess. Wish it all could've been under better circumstances."

"Same to you, _Sheriff_ ," Jess teased. Wayne had been badged just that morning, right after the ex-judge was placed on a train along with a broken-legged Fred Ames. Only time would tell what would happen to both men.

"Stay out of trouble, or else," Wayne winked back.

Jess and Slim rode out, ready to be finally headed home. After having to testify about the latest fracas, it was another three days before they had been permitted to leave. Slim was feeling anxious about the ranch, and Jess, well he was just feeling like he needed his rocking chair by the fire.

The next day, they topped the hill that overlooked the Sherman Relay Station... _home_. Slim and Jess didn't need to say the word aloud. They both simultaneously spurred their tired steeds to lope the rest of the way.

"Hey look, Jonesy," Andy shouted. "They're back! They're finally back!"

The old man and boy dropped their chores and met Slim and Jess at the barn.

"'Bout time you got home, you two," Jonesy groused. Then he caught sight of Jess. "Boy! Get down off'a that horse. You look like you've tangled with a grizzly."

Jess shot a look at Slim, one that spoke volumes. Slim nodded once. He would leave Jess to give his version on what happened, true or not. There was no reason to share the horror with the family at home. "That's about what happened," the blond man said, dismounting.

Andy gasped. "Jess! Did you really fight a bear?"

Jess grinned as he slid from his saddle. "Not quite, kid. Ya see, it was like this…"

Jonesy cut in between the boy and man-boy and grabbed Jess' arm. "You can tell your story later. But first you need some doctorin'. I just made up a fresh batch of liniment. Andy, go fetch me a bottle from the barn."

"Now, Jonesy," Jess whined as he was dragged toward the house. "I done been fixed up by a real doctor in town…"

"Can't trust them fancy city doctors! They don't know a splinter from a blister. Now get on in!"

"Slim!" Jess threw one last plea.

Slim just laughed. "Nope, you go right on ahead, Jess."

Jess shot him a glare that surely said, " _I'll get you for this."_

Slim took a step and was nearly bowled over by Andy, who was rushing by with the new bottle. Even corked, the smell was powerful. "Tell Jonesy to do his doctoring outside!" Slim called after his little brother.

After the horses were stabled, Slim ambled up to the house, hesitant to enter. Jess would no doubt be in there concocting a wild tale that most definitely left out the part that he was beaten by a madman, but would also paint Jess the hero. Slim wondered what part he would get this time - a victim needing rescued, or a sidekick who was just there to "help."

When he entered, Jess was sitting in his favorite chair, rocking contentedly with a cup of coffee, talking with his head leaned back and eyes closed. Liniment oder burned Slim's nose, and Jess' bandages had been loosened. Andy was sitting on the edge of the couch below the window, mouth open in shock. Jonesy was putting away his medicine kit, muttering under his breath the entire time. Slim took a deep breath and came all the way in.

"Slim!" Andy shouted. "Did Jess really fight a loco-ed mountain lion to protect that pretty Ms. Lucy?"

"Erm...sort of…," Slim hedged, looking with annoyance at his friend. What kind of story did Jess fabricate?

"Gosh! And did you really bust in at the last minute and save Jess from gettin' killed?"

Slim gaped. "Uh...maybe?"

Jess kept a straight face as he tipped his chin down, but his sleepy eyes were full of immeasurable gratitude. "Don't you remember, pard? I was nearly a goner if you hadn't showed up when you did." He addressed Andy, but his eyes never left Slim's face. "Your brother saved my life, Andy."

"Wow!" Andy continued to chatter, but the two best friends didn't really hear them. What needed saying was said, and so they could get on like always. No favors were held over the other. There was no need for anything like that.

The evening passed on like all others. Jonesy set supper on the table, and as everyone gathered Slim was startled to notice a rather fancy pie. "Where did that come from?"

"Mz. Abernathy brought it by," Jonesy said, with no further comment.

Andy grinned. "She's sweet on Jonesy! I think she wants to marry him."

"Harumph," Jonesy grunted. "Fat chance. This here's a men-only ranch, and that's how it'll stay!" He gave Jess a knowing glance.

Jess' eyes were round but he managed a nervous chuckle. "Sure, Jonesy, sure."

Slim slapped his pard on the back with a loud laugh. "There ya go, Jess. Stay here and you'll never have to worry about woman troubles again."

Jess returned the slap, only on Slim's flat stomach. "That your excuse on Saturday nights, pard?"

Slim glared, but couldn't stay angry for long as everyone, including Jess, starting laughing. Soon no one could hardly breathe, but it wasn't the joke that had everyone holding their ribs. It was the relief and happiness that everyone was home, and home to stay.

XXXXX

 **Hurray! It's over! What a relief. ~haha~**

 **I wanted this ending to be just right. I hope it satisfied everyone! Thank you THANK YOU again for reading. Stay tuned for more stories! I hope to get one started up again soon. Of course, I'd love ideas for my story chest if anybody has any they want to share!**

 **Have a great summer! See you all again soon!**


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